Perigee
by gumtuu
Summary: Part 7 of 5. Can Trevor and Claire handle their secret?
1. perigee pg 01

**PERIGEE**  
A story about the tv show, Cupid  
Part Six of Five  
by Steve 0yervidez  
gumtuu@hotmail.com  
  


The light of a late afternoon filled the windows in front of Claire's singles group as they met at Cuppa Java.  
The whole scene seemed to slide sideways into view, moving from the dim shadowed walls of the hallway to the bright main room of the coffee bar. Arrayed across the floor, the groups occupants sat in several rows of chairs, and it was a full room as usual, everyone stationary and listening. One woman was standing in the middle of the group, talking excitedly, telling her tale. At the front of the room, presiding before them all, Claire Allen faced everyone with a smile on her face. As she continued to listen to the fairly explicit details of the group member's account, there was a small twinkle in Claire's eye.  
Claire watched the woman standing in the middle of the seated assemblage, a look of amusement on her face at the woman's tale, but still a little skeptical as to where it was going. Suddenly, the whole listening audience laughed as one, surprised by the audacity of the story the woman was telling. Even Claire herself felt her cheeks blush pink slightly in response, a little surprised at the woman's honesty.  
The attractive young woman didn't seem to mind that every eye was on her, eagerly gesturing with her hands as she told her story. "I can't explain how good it felt. It was like we were out of control, constantly putting our hands all over each other, we wanted each other so bad. We didn't care where we were, or who was watching. So... when we finally did hear the police sirens, we put our clothes back on and they continued with the fourth quarter. The Jumbotron had a field day..."  
Nick spoke up, recognizing her. "Wait, that was you? Bears game, last year? Oh, I gotta say. Bravo..."  
The woman looked back at Claire, seeming a little concerned. "It didn't last. After awhile, it seemed we didn't have anything more than great sex. Now I'm with a new guy, and it's sort of starting up the same way all over again, hot and heavy. It's scaring me. Is a ravenous appetite for non stop sex like that... normal?"  
The woman smiled, waiting in the middle of dazed faces.  
"Umm..." Claire paused for a moment, still stunned, her lips slightly parted.  
  
An energetic music began to play, fast and driving with a pounding electric bass line. Rock organs held chords over the driving bass, combining to play an up tempo song that seemed to hover over everything. A man's animated voice began to sing, lively over the organs, drums and guitars.  
  
**_ Well my temperature's rising, and my feet left the floor  
Crazy people knockin' cause they're wanting some more_**  
  
Jaclyn was busy at her desk outside of Claire's office. Trevor was standing nearby, apparently for no reason, trying to look busy but not succeeding. Blinking, Jaclyn stared up from her work at him hovering there. He didn't look over at her, as if waiting. She was about to ask him if he needed something specific, when suddenly the door to Claire's office jerked eagerly open.  
For a moment Claire seemed to be running as she stepped out. But then she caught herself when she saw Jaclyn look over at her and became deliberately cool, calmly walking over to the reception desk and handing her some folders. "Umm, Jaclyn... could you please deliver these files which Dr. Greeley asked for to his office, please?"  
Jaclyn blinked at the sudden request. Trevor pretended not to notice at all, looking away. Slowly Jaclyn rose from her chair. "Uhh... sure, Claire."  
Claire handed them to her with an almost impatient smile.  
Flashing them a confused look at how they were acting, Jaclyn stepped between Claire and Trevor, taking the files and moving off down the hallway, leaving them behind. The two of them stayed there, calmly watching her leave. Then Claire touched her ear, turning slightly towards him, for all the world as if just remembering something. Her voice sounded like she was reciting something rehearsed. "That reminds me. Mr. Hale... Can I see you in my office for a moment?"  
Saying nothing, a barely perceptible smile crossed Trevor's face.  
  
**_ Let me in baby, I don't know what I've got, _**  
  
Back at the singles group, Claire was still carefully searching for a way to answer the woman's question as to what was normal. But then out of nowhere there was a sudden sparkle in Claire's eyes, as if holding back some memory. Smiling, Claire grazed one of her fingers slowly across her neck, a little self conscious. "Well... normal might not be the operative word..."  
  
The door to Claire's office slammed shut.  
Trevor and Claire both took one calm step into her office, before they instantly whirled on each other, their bodies colliding as their mouths sealed together hungrily and they started to maul one another. With both of them panting and moaning, their bodies started to circle each other as they stood gripped tightly in the other's roaming embrace, not able to keep their hands off each other.  
  
**_ But you better take it easy, 'cause this place is hot, and I'm-- _**  
  
Claire's singles group was laughing in amazement. They were reacting to the continuation of the woman's explicit tale of her sex life and murmuring appreciatively, a new liveliness in the room. When the woman paused for another response from her, Claire swallowed, now certain her skin was a little heated, but from thinking of her and Trevor. "Well regardless... it's understandable. Sometimes it's really easy to let the heat and excitement of a new relationship go a little overboard..."  
  
Claire suddenly came into view as she was slammed back into her office wall. Trevor was instantly all over her as they both kissed each other hungrily. Neither of them seemed to notice or care about the crashing sound they made. Claire's arm darted absently out to the wall by her side to keep herself from falling over, but not wanting to stop... Her left leg seemed to snake around behind Trevor's leg of it's own will. With a moan Trevor reached down, hoisting her up, and her legs instantly wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing on his back. With her arm still sprayed out to one side, Claire moved her free hand on the wall to steady herself, sending some of her diplomas falling to the floor with a clatter. Their mouths parted for a split second, both panting heavily with her body pinned against the wall. She started unsuccessfully trying to remove Trevor's shirt. Trevor was doing the same to her, not having much success with the buttons on her blouse. There seemed to be infinite layers upon layers of clothing in their way. Trevor only managed to tear a few top buttons of the blouse free, sending them flying, before they were too busy kissing each other again. They both still very much had their clothes on, not wanting to take their mouths off each other for even a moment as they rolled along the wall, her legs still wrapped around his waist.  
  
**_ So glad we made it, _**  
  
Sitting calmly in front of her group, Claire looked prim and proper, the model of composure. But there was the tiniest lift on her features, remembering, as she leaned forward and interlocked her fingers across her knees.  
"Feelings like that are normal. We've all become a little foolish during the heat of a new romance...."  
The woman who had brought up the topic thought she noticed something different in Claire's eyes. She tilted her head, curious. "Foolish how? What's wrong with being a little risky! Letting go, giving in because of how you feel?"  
Claire looked around at the group a little defensively, her face deliberately calm, almost as if she were trying to hide something, leaning back in retreat. "I didn't say anything was _WRONG_ with it... Necessarily. As long as you keep it in... moderation."  
  
**_ So glad we made it, you got to-- _**  
  
Nearly every major object sitting on Claire's desk was suddenly propelled through the air as Claire's arm swept it aside. Trying to keep up, Trevor looked at her, surprised by her voraciousness. His clothes were wrinkled on his body, his hair pointing in every direction. Claire's blouse was missing a few buttons. But then she tackled him, both of them falling onto the desk, as more things there started falling loudly to the floor.  
  
The woman in the group shivered pleasurably at her own memory. From the looks on the faces behind her, the rest of the group agreed with her. Her voice was still insistent  
"Because it all felt so phenomenal..." the woman said.  
Blinking , Claire nodded rapidly, still trying to stay cool as she leaned back and calmly crossed her legs, embarrassed by her own reaction as all the remembered thoughts of her and Trevor ran through her head. "I... imagine a certain level of impulsiveness might feel that way..."  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin' _**  
  
Jaclyn was walking back to her desk when she paused, hearing a crash come from inside Claire's office. Wondering about it, her brow furrowed as she came nearer. She noticed Claire's door was shut. It hadn't been before. Confused, she looked down at her watch. There were no appointments scheduled right now. And now Trevor was gone too. Where had he taken off to? Pausing next to the door, Jaclyn slowly leaned in, still curious, just in time to hear the crash of something else falling to the floor inside. Suddenly the muffled sound of Claire's voice could be heard, calling Trevor's name. Jaclyn's eyes went wide.  
The door on the other side of the hallway opposite Claire's suddenly opened, and a young male hospital intern walked out. Jaclyn quickly turned around, suddenly going stiff as a board in front of Claire's door, trying not to appear conspicuous. The intern gave her a strange look at her sudden stance, but was clueless as to what was going on. Jaclyn smiled sweetly at him, a tinge of panic in her eyes but saying nothing, watching him until he had walked away. She jumped a little as the door behind her rattled slightly, a dim shadow rolling by, visible through the hazy glass. Trevor and Claire had obviously moved back off the desk.  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin'  
  
_** Claire smiled as her group listened to her. "Don't misunderstand me, I think passion's fine. As long as you don't let it adversely affect your life..."  
  
Still fully clothed, Trevor and Claire staggered around her office, facing each other, held in the other's arms. They were still not making much progress removing each others clothing. Wrapped in a close fumbling embrace, their upright bodies were pressed together tightly, mouths sealed, kissing and moaning together. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies as they inadvertently bounced all around the room in an uncoordinated dance, kissing passionately. Bumping into it, they finally collapsed on the desk again, fully dressed and overwhelmed by the other's touch.  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin'  
every day, hey _**  
  
Able to hear the commotion they were making from outside, Jaclyn chuckled nervously to herself, looking around as she stood impromptu guard before the door. Her body tensed suddenly when she saw Dr. Greeley approaching down the hallway, a confused look on his face as he looked down at the files Claire had just had her deliver to him.  
Trying not to panic, Jaclyn darted over to intercept him as far away from Claire's office door as possible. She smiled, not knowing what to do.  
"Dr. Greeley!" she said too loudly, before giving him an awkward try at a playful punch on the arm in greeting. "Hey... _you_!"  
He looked at her, confused. "Hello again, Jaclyn. These files that Claire had you bring over... They're not the patient files I needed."  
"Oh? What are these?"  
"Secret Santa list from 1994..."  
"Oh great..." Jaclyn moaned softly, looking down. Catching herself, she tried to cover. "Oh... Great! I-I'll get those... For you. The files. You need. Don't move. Stay right there."  
Jaclyn rushed over to her desk, grabbing the appropriate files where they had waited on top of the desk and rushing back, moving as quickly as she could before Dr. Greeley could come any closer to Claire's door. She handed them to him with a smile, a little out of breath.  
"There you go..."  
Greeley stared blankly at her for a moment. "May I speak to Claire?"  
"Umm..." Jaclyn's mind raced, trying to think of something. She let out a coy laugh. "Did I mention how handsome that suit makes you look? That color just really looks great on you."  
He gave her a level look. "You mean... grey?"  
"Yeah... It brings out the color of your--" Jaclyn froze, searching. "--hair."  
He looked at her again, and Jaclyn thought she had just blown it.  
"Well thank you," he smiled in sudden appreciation. "I just got this suit from--"  
There was another crash from inside Claire's office behind them. Greeley looked over Jaclyn's shoulder at the closed office door. "What's going on in there?"  
"Claire's... with a patient. They're--" Jaclyn's eyes widened a little at the sound of another crash, her body going perfectly still. "... they're dialoguing..."  
Greeley nodded slowly, but not really understanding. He turned and started to walk away, going back to his office with the appropriate files. Jaclyn instantly rushed back to Claire's door. She slid a cushioned waiting area chair over in front of it and blocked it off. Taking a seat in the chair, she quickly crossed her legs, determined not to let anything past her. As Jaclyn sat guard there, her raised foot bouncing nervously.  
  
**_ Well I feel so good, everything is gettin' hot  
You'd better take some time off 'cause this place is on fire _**  
  
Before her group, Claire looked down, sitting in front of the window at Cuppa Java. An appreciation tinged her words, as if conceding to some good memory. "Well... you have to admit there's something immensely exciting about secrets you can't tell anyone. The unexpected thrill you get from that sense of danger, the exhilaration and headiness that you might get caught at any moment..."  
There were confused murmurs across the singles group in front of her, wondering what she was talking about.  
Blinking at their reaction, Claire's face froze, petrified at what she had just let slip out. She subtly straightened her skirt and coughed. "Umm... never mind."  
The woman chuckled. "Well what would you do in my situation, Dr. Allen..."  
Claire paused for a moment, her lips parted as she considered.  
  
**_ Better start baby 'cause I got so much to do  
We made it baby and it happened to you, and I'm-- _**  
  
On the desk again, Claire rolled Trevor on to his back, finally ripping his shirt up over his head and off, exposing his chest. When he was free of it, she slammed him back down on to the desk, banging his head hard. Wincing, he didn't mind the throbbing pain, instead still swimming in her touch as she kissed him passionately again, letting out a deep series of moans. Except for his shirt, they were otherwise fully clothed, still too engrossed for the moment as their bodies writhed against each other, her lying on top of him. Sitting up, she squeezed her knees in tight against his hips, leaning forward to nibble on his ear with another moan.  
"Oh god, Trevor..."  
"Umm, Claire--"  
"I know. I feel it too..." Interrupting, she kissed him, yearning, moaning.  
He placed his fingers on her lips, stopping her, a look of concern on his face. His voice was a whisper. "Wait... Do you hear that?"  
"Hear what?"  
They both went quiet, Claire lying on top of him, both of them on top of her office desk, motionless. Then they heard it, a soft barely audible squeak, like something was being pushed repeatedly. Then they heard it again, and again, long sounds, in a slow driving rhythm.  
"Trevor... Is that--"  
"That's not me." he said.  
The long squeaks continued, not stopping their soft, relentless cycle, steady and faint.  
Slowly, with their bodies remaining completely still, they both turned their faces towards the office window until they were cheek to cheek, their hair disheveled and disorganized.  
  
**_ So glad we made it...  
  
_** Outside Claire's office window, on a scaffolding hanging from the roof, a stunned window washer was staring at them through the glass. His eyes were frozen wide open from what he was seeing, for a moment thinking he was the luckiest window washer on the face of the planet. His right hand was still moving by itself in the sunlight, absently sliding a squeegee across the same, long since dry, three inch expanse of glass he had been working on when they had stumbled in. An unused bottle of window cleaner waited in his left hand, long forgotten.  
Claire and Trevor stared at him for a long moment, in total shock. With a jerk, they instantly rolled sideways off the desk, falling down in each other's arms behind it with a hard thud. Hidden there, after some whispers and curses, there was a new sound. Like someone scrambling along the floor. And suddenly from underneath the window Claire's arm fumbled upward, her hand groping around until it grabbed a string hanging down the side. She used it to start lowering the window's blinds, still hiding herself beneath it.  
Behind her, Trevor decided to make a dash for the door, running away from her desk with his back to the window. The window washer outside was still blank faced in awe, and as Claire lowered the blinds his body twisted down to keep the interior in view, before the blinds shut him completely out of sight.  
Jaclyn was just about to tape a crude sign she had scribbled onto the glass which said 'Construction In Progress' when the door suddenly opened and she jumped, startled as Trevor came running blindly past, pulling his shirt on.  
  
**_ So glad we made it,  
you got to-- _**  
  
Claire continued.  
"Of course, those are merely some generic, run of the mill suggestions, assuming there's a grocery nearby..."  
The entire stunned attention of the group was on Claire after what she had just proposed as she sat before them. The racy things the group member had related seemed like nothing in comparison to Claire's explicit suggestions. Not noticing, Claire carefully adjusted her skirt, pulling it lower on her knees for some reason.  
"On the other hand.." she said "Sometimes its better to just let things cool off for awhile..."  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin' _**  
  
A showerhead sprang to life, shooting water down.  
Claire's face moved close into the hard spray, letting the ice cold water cascade against her Trevor heated skin as she tried to catch her breath. The freezing water bounced off of her as she kept her eyes closed, intentionally taking a little into her mouth before spitting it back out. The freezing liquid poured down her, and she shook her body gratefully for the icy affect.  
  
Sitting in her chair, Claire was still speaking to the group as they listened. "Or maybe it's better to find other ways of working it off..."  
  
**_ Gimme gimme some lovin' _**  
  
Trevor was alone, his body covered in sweat.  
He was leaning forward on the chair in his bedroom, and his arm was aching with exertion, groaning as he flexed it repeatedly. Frantic about it, the heavy dumbbell he was holding came into view as he lifted it in an arm curl, his elbow popped on his knee as he grunted each time. The biceps in his arm were already burning, feeling like they were on fire, but he didn't stop, pressing on. Grunting, he wiped his forehead with is free hand, and his right arm continued with curl after curl, trying to burn off excess energy, and trying not to let his mind wander to where it inevitably kept wandering.  
  
The singles group shared glances with each other, still surprised at the unusually explicit things Claire was suggesting to them, seemingly out of character for her. They sat there, wondering what was going on.  
Claire still didn't seem to notice, looking wistfully into the air as she let her imagination run free. "A little exotic I know, but doable if you have good balance... And a sturdy table. See... Plentiful sex is a good thing. But I think the real crux of Sandra's problem, other than some possibly deeper intimacy issues, isn't really about appropriate reactions, but appropriate places where you can act on them..."  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin'  
every day, hey _**  
  
Trevor and Claire stumbled into the men's bathroom at Taggerty's, oblivious to the world as their mouths consumed each other, hands slipping across the other's body. Moaning, they collapsed against a wall. That was when they finally noticed the shocked man standing beside them, pressed up against a urinal in mid use, unable to continue. The three of them stared at each other for a frozen moment, wondering what to do.  
Trevor and Claire stumbled into the women's bathroom at Taggerty's, equally oblivious to the world. This time no one else was there and Trevor shoved Claire up on to the wide sink counter as they kissed and moaned. He pressed his body up against hers. Curving forward against him, Claire gasped and started kissing his neck. She was looking over his shoulder, when suddenly a woman started walking casually in, before instantly stopping short at the sight of them.  
They both whirled to face the woman, speaking in unison.  
"Do you mind?!" they said.  
Too startled to argue, the woman slowly backed out the way she came.  
Frustration on her face, Claire was straightening her hair after she stormed out from the women's bathroom at Taggerty's. Champ was at the bar, and he blinked when Claire stormed past without a word. After she was gone, Champ suddenly noticed Trevor walking slowly past too, looking like he had been mauled by dogs.  
"Hey Trevor, where are you going?" He called out when Trevor didn't stop, walking past. "Hey! You're still on lunch shift!"  
Panting to cool off, Trevor swallowed, facing Champ as he pushed the front door open with his back. "Gotta go do some dumbbell curls..."  
  
**_ Well I feel so good, everything is gettin' hot  
You better take some time off 'cause this place is on fire _**  
  
It was raining outside Claire's living room window.  
Claire and Trevor suddenly collapsed into view onto the cushions of Claire's sofa, wrapped in each other's arms. Her living room was quiet around them, and they took full advantage of the fact that they were finally alone. Their kissing and groping quickly became more intense, almost to the point of not stopping. Claire's blouse was quickly unbuttoned, sliding off to either side with Trevor laying on top of her, when there was suddenly a chime as the doorbell rang.  
Exasperated, Claire moaned towards the ceiling at the interruption. "Oh for the love of god!"  
Trevor closed his eyes, resting his forehead on her chin beneath him. "That's what I'm trying for..."  
Claire scrambled out from under his body, moving to her feet. As she walked over to the front door, Trevor tried to straighten his clothes behind her. Looking down, she realized her blouse was open, her black lace bra amply showing lots of her pale skin and curves. She quickly buttoned up, adjusting her blouse. Trevor remained seated on the couch.  
After running her fingers once through her hair, Claire took a deep breath to cool herself. She opened the front door, and stopped in her tracks at who was there.  
"Daddy..." she said softly.  
Bill Allen was standing on her doorstep, smiling at her. The handsome graying man stepped forward when he saw her, hugging her warmly. "Hello sweetie. Sorry about being last minute. But I thought I'd take you up on that offer you made last week after all, to stay here with you while I'm playing in town..."  
Surprised, Claire blinked as he hugged her, her body stiff under her father's arms. "Oh... Right... That's--that's great..."  
When he pulled back, she tried to give him the best smile she could.  
He noticed anyway. "Honey... wait are you okay? Is this a bad time? Are you here with someone?"  
"Yes. Yes, I'm--" Claire looked over towards her couch. But it was empty. Trevor was gone, nowhere in sight.  
"--not." she finished.  
Bill Allen smiled. "Great, baby. This is going to be great..."  
Claire sighed because Trevor had left. But then she turned to her father with smile, and was truly, genuinely happy to see him. "Come in out of the rain, dad..."  
Bill Allen picked up his suitcase and his guitar case and walked in, the door closing behind them.  
  
Back in front of the group, Claire rubbed her brow wearily. "Still... Sometimes finding an appropriate place is harder than you think..."  
  
**_ It's been a hard day and nothin' went to good,   
I'm gonna relax now now, I think everybody should, and I'm-- _**  
  
Trevor and Claire seemed uncomfortable.  
They were sitting on the couch in Trevor's apartment, but Allison was sitting there with them, wedged into the small space between their motionless bodies, a bowl of popcorn on her lap. With all three of them wedged onto the couch, Allison smiled happily, eating popcorn and watching the movie on the television before them, completely unaware that Claire and Trevor had hoped to be alone.  
  
Thinking about it, Claire continued from her seat before the group. "At then, inevitably, desperation sets in again. And you start to settle for any place you can get..."  
  
It was the exact same elevator where the two of them had kissed. Trevor stood patiently at one corner near the back, Claire at the other, watching an older gentleman standing between them near the closed elevator doors. After several moments, the doors slid open, the man stepped out, and they closed again. Instantly Claire and Trevor were in each other's arms, kissing. But after less than a few seconds the elevator chimed, reaching a new floor. Hurriedly they separated as the doors slid open and a woman stepped in.  
The doors opened. The doors closed. Quickly, over and over, repeating on several floors. But it continued the same way every time, a few moments of being alone only to be almost immediately interrupted again. With each cluster of passengers stepping in or out, Trevor and Claire were left behind them with their faces growing harder and more annoyed. It seemed like the Chicago marathon was being run through that single elevator, as busy as it was. The crowd separated Trevor and Claire even further, jostling them to the back.  
  
**_ So glad we made it,  
  
_** For a moment they were alone again. As the elevator doors finally closed, Trevor rushed over to the elevator controls and pressed the emergency stop button, deciding not to take any more chances. Pleased with himself, he turned towards Claire. But just as they were about to tackle each other, a loud blaring alarm suddenly screamed out, braying and overwhelming, forcing them to cover their ears.  
Turning back around, Trevor started to punch frantically at all the elevator buttons, desperate to shut it off. Suddenly sprinklers in the ceiling went off from what he was doing, filling the elevator with an intense rain of water. Trevor suddenly noticed a tiny sign which read, This cab equipped with MOBILE FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEM. As the spray of water pounded down, empting the unseen water tank on the cab's roof, Trevor and Claire had no where to run, becoming drenched. With water dripping off their faces as the blaring alarm continued, the lights blinking, they both looked at each other in defeat.  
The elevator doors opened onto the ground floor with a chime.  
A man was waiting patiently to use the elevator, until the doors opened and he was forced to step aside, surprised. Trevor stepped out from the drenched interior, his wet clothes soaked and heavy on him, his hair caked against his forehead. With a smile towards the man staring at him, he walked past as if nothing was wrong, his pants splashing as he walked.  
"Morning..." Trevor offered politely, leaving wet tracks down the hallway as the elevator doors closed behind him.  
  
**_ so glad we made it,  
you got to...  
Gimme some lovin' _**  
  
Claire ran her fingers back through her hair which was long dry, at the memory of that. She tried to get her thoughts back on to what she was talking to the group about, still seated in front of them. "And sometimes, when it's a little difficult finding that right time to consummate a relationship, there's nothing wrong with just exchanging innocent love letters. You know, to set the mood. Sweet, playful, completely non sexual bits of prose to heighten the anticipation..."  
  
Claire was behind her desk at her office, a gentle smile on her face as she read the love letter Trevor had written her. Holding it tenderly in her hands as she lovingly read the words, there was a serenic look in her soft brown eyes. She reached out, about to take a sip from a glass of water, her expression not changing, before she calmly splashed the contents of the glass whole into her face, trying to cool off from what Trevor had written.  
  
"But what if we're terrible at writing love letters," Sandra asked from the group.  
Claire shrugged, caught off guard, looking at the curious faces before her. "Well... there are always other sorts of reminders..."  
  
**_ Gimme gimme some lovin' _**  
  
Trevor had a tray of glasses balanced expertly on his left shoulder as he walked out of the back room at Taggerty's. He moved through the crowded bar, confident with his balance and skill. Unobservant drunken revelers bumped him along his way, but he moved smoothly around them, unconcerned as he walked towards the bar where he needed to store them. Suddenly Claire walked across his path. They shared a glance, but both played it cool, even though they couldn't help smiling at each other. Neither was paying attention, eyes locked on each other when she accidentally bumped into him. The tray full of glasses tipped precariously for a moment, but Trevor leveled it expertly, relieved that he hadn't let them fall.  
Claire turned to face him as she walked away, a smug look on her face at the reaction she had caused. "Night, Trevor..."  
As she walked out of the bar, Trevor blinked at the mischievous glint in her eye, still standing there with his tray, wondering what was going on. But then he realized Claire had slipped something into his pant pocket when she had bumped into him. Using his free hand, he reached in and pulled the object out.  
It was a polaroid. Trevor's eyes went wide when he saw what was on it.  
Frozen in the crowd, he stood motionless as his body went numb. Still staring at the revealing Polaroid, the tray on his shoulder tilted slowly out of his grip, sending rows of glasses cascading down to shatter loudly at his feet. Trevor stood there, not moving, eyes locked on the picture and noticing nothing else as the crowd turned to look at him.  
  
**_ Gimme some lovin'  
everyday, hey. _**  
  
The music came to a stop.  
There was a stunned silence in Claire' singles group.  
They all gazed at her in total amazement, watching Claire seated before them. The suggestions she had made were heated and explicit, shocking them all into silence. Claire didn't even seem to notice their reaction, still looking off into the air as she sighed contently, before turning towards the quiet group.  
Without a clue, she blinked at the fact that no one was moving, and all of them were staring at her.  
"Umm... Are there any questions?"  
Every arm in the room shot up in unison.  
  
Bright afternoon light filled the green bordered windows at Taggerty's. A tv was playing in the background, the announcer making some vague comment about next week's lunar perigee, and the strange things that people usually did during the time when the moon was closest to the earth. Beneath the television's glowing face, Trevor and Claire were seated across from each other at Taggerty's. Two ice filled glasses of soda were set on the table between them. In the rest of the bar, music was playing in the background thumping over an otherwise sparse afternoon crowd at Taggerty's. With lots of empty tables around them, both Claire and Trevor had their hands on the table as they sat across from each other, each moving their hands around as if to keep them busy. And to keep them off each other as they worked their minds over how to handle their current situation.  
Trevor's fingers were quickly rotating his full glass of soda, burning off excess energy. Both of them seemed restless as they talked, shifting in their seats from the feelings pent up inside them.  
Leaning forward, Trevor lowered his voice, quick fingers drumming softly on the tabletop. "Come on, Claire. I'm the god of love, infinite knowledge for millennia. You're Little Mrs. Organized. I know we can figure out a way to make this happen..."  
"We can, Trevor. It's just..." Claire looked around, but no one was near them. She leaned closer in for some semblance of secrecy. "We have to be careful, Trevor. We're still trying to keep this secret, remember?"  
He groaned. "For once I just wish we could both be out in the open about us..." The glass continued to spin in his anxious fingers on the table top.  
Claire nodded, her fingers deftly twisting at the straw in her drink to keep them busy as she thought of touching him. She stopped when she suddenly realized she had inexplicably managed to tie the straw into a complicated knot. Tossing it away, she continued. "We can't. You know that, Trevor. No one can know about us..."  
"Yeah, Claire. But if this keeps up even _WE_ won't know about us." Frustrated, Trevor leaned back in his chair, fingers clicking frantically on the table top. "Seriously. At this rate, we'll both be getting less than a 30 year old trekkie at an abstinence convention."  
"Trevor, I know. I really do. I want this to happen between us too..." When she looked up at him, there was a tenderness in her brown eyes, and Trevor almost lost his breath. But beyond that tenderness, she also spoke with a heat, a simmering in her words. "I want you so much, Trevor. But with my father at my place and Allison at yours--"  
He smiled at her. "Then we're in luck. I have it on very good authority that neither of them is currently in one well secluded walk-in freezer in the back." His eyebrow lifted suggestively.  
She chuckled, looking down. "Oh I'm sure Linda would love to walk in on that..."  
"Hey who knows? She might..." He gave her another hopeful look, then he decided to try something else.  
"Sleazy motel around the corner?" he offered.  
"No."  
"Woman's dressing room at Macy's?"   
"No, Trevor."  
"Big secluded bush on the corner of 50th..."  
Losing patience, Claire couldn't help but smile at his eager attempts. "Trevor, when they did that brain scan on you--"  
He lifted a finger in his defense. "Hey, they promised me that was just for show--"  
She pressed on. "Did they get any results back that said 'this space for rent'? I want you just as bad as you want me. But maybe it's better this happened this way. So we have a chance to slow down, think things through..."  
"Here we go..." Trevor moaned, as if he should have expected this.  
"No..." Not caring who saw her, Claire reached over and touched his hand on the table, wanting him to understand. Strangely enough, the feel of the other's touch seemed to calm their listless movements, instead of increase them. His head spun at the soft touch of her hand. "It's not like that, Trevor. All I'm saying is that I don't want our first time together to be like that. I want it to be romantic, I don't want to treat you like some sort of sex object."  
Baffled, Trevor lifted his arms. "What's wrong with sex object? I'd love to be treated like a sex object. Come on, objectify me! Objectify my brains out--"  
"You know what I mean, Trevor."  
Nodding because he did, Trevor exhaled and leaned back. "You know, I've never had this much trouble with seduction before. Not when my usual approach always makes it so easy..."  
She teased him. "Let me guess... Awkward conversation and ether?"  
He smiled. "See there. There's nothing I enjoy more than a thorough lashing of my ego via your skilled tongue." Pausing, Trevor thought about what he had just said, before taking a large gulp of soda to cool down.  
Claire's hand rested lightly on his again as she looked into his eyes. "Ok. Let me put it in a language you understand. We be careful or you crazy go away looonng long time!"  
Lifting her hands, she motioned them through the air, making a whistling sound, tugging at her ear, wiggling her fingers in towards him and making a whizzing sound in a condescending Three Stooges routine.  
He looked at her for a long appreciative moment. "You are SO hot to me right now..."  
"Trevor... I'm not only talking about somewhere where we can keep us secret. I want our first time together to be better than some sleazy, hour rate motel."  
"Six hour rate..." he corrected.  
"Six hou-- Six? I'll hold you to that. I love you, Trevor. I know we're both frustrated, but we've waited years for this. We can wait a little longer. And like Winnie the Pooh says, the honey's sweet, but the anticipation is sweeter."  
"Never knew he was so kinky..."  
"Trevor, I just want it to be special."  
He blinked. "Special? Special how?"  
"Special like..." She gave him a sudden, mysterious look, before calmly reaching into her drink to pull out an ice cube. Seductively, she raised it to her lips, gently sucking the tip between her lips for a few moments, before biting a tiny part off as she smiled at him. Trevor was mesmerized, she was giving an expert performance. Her lips continuing their work, Claire spoke in a seductive tone. "Special like finding a day and a place.. where we can really... REALLY take our time..."  
Claire's eyes didn't wander off of his as her lips continued to suck leisurely on the ice cube.  
Trevor swallowed, his skin suddenly feeling warmer on his body.  
"Oh..." He nodded several times quickly. "Special's good."  
"Very good..." Finished with her piece of ice, Claire lifted her glass off the table and took a sip, a decidedly wicked glint in her eye.   
Still watching her lips intently, now on her glass, Trevor soon began to squirm in his seat. Clearing his throat, he looked away.  
"Ok... Time for me to get back to work."  
Starting to rise from his chair, he stopped himself about halfway up. Tilting his head, he suddenly stared off into space. After an awkward pause, he slowly lowered himself back down, trying not to look embarrassed. "I-I... I think it's better if I just wait in this chair for the next few minutes."  
Claire looked away with a smile, pleased with herself.  
Standing easily away from her chair, Claire gathered her coat and purse. Trevor remained seated, using a careful move to stiffly cross his legs.  
"Bye, Trevor..." With a touch of victory in her happy expression, Claire walked past him and away from the table.  
Trevor's shoulders were scrunched in tight, nodding to himself as he suddenly leaned forward. But then there was suddenly a fondness in his eyes once Claire was gone, and he smiled, waving himself cooler.   
"Love burns..." he said.  
  
Jaclyn and Champ were staring tiredly ahead.  
They were standing side by side in the glow of morning light coming in through the small window of the bathroom in Jaclyn's apartment, where they lived together. Both had bleary, bored looks on their sleepy faces, standing before the bathroom sink, trying to get started for the morning. The bathroom itself was too small for both of them, much like Jaclyn's apartment was itself, with two people living there. They both had to squeeze in side by side in front of the little sink, going through what had long ago become a cramped and difficult daily morning ritual, maneuvering as best as they could around each other so they could get ready to go to their separate jobs. But there really wasn't enough room or time, and they subtly jostled each other to position themselves.  
Lifting his arms, Champ sighed, all too used to the awkward maneuvering. It happened nearly every morning. Trying to keep his expression neutral, he continued to brush his teeth, fighting for viewing space in the small mirror on the wall. Beside him, Jaclyn was combing her short auburn hair. Even without makeup and it being early in the morning, without make up when she wasn't trying, she still looked incredibly cute. But Champ didn't seem to notice, simply trying not to bump her as he brushed his teeth. He wasn't wearing a shirt as he bent over the sink and rinsed his mouth, leaving his muscles exposed, firm and well defined, pleasing to the eye. But as Jaclyn combed her hair, she didn't seem to notice him either.  
As she turned to put down her hairbrush, her hip bumped Champ, making him pause over the sink, his mouth full of water. She looked over at him.  
"Sorry..." she said simply.  
Champ didn't say anything, spitting out the water in to the sink and finishing up. Having to squeeze past her, he reached up towards where he had left his clothes hanging from a hook on the back of the cramped bathroom's door. He sighed when he saw that Jaclyn had hung a bra there over his clothes. Moving it aside, he took his clothes down.  
Behind him, Jaclyn was getting ready for her turn to brush her teeth, already holding her toothbrush. When she reached for the tube of toothpaste in the usual tray where she always kept it, she found nothing. Looking around, she finally saw it nestled in the clutter of both their things along the sink's rim. Frowning when she saw it, she picked it up.  
"Champ... You left the top off the toothpaste again."  
"Oh... Sorry..."  
Deciding to say nothing further, Jaclyn looked annoyed as she reached for some toilet paper hanging on it's roll to clean up the mess where the toothpaste had spilled. Behind her, Champ was getting dressed, pulling on a clean shirt.  
Jaclyn blinked when she looked down at the toilet paper roll on its dispenser. It unspooled on the side closest to the wall. She hated it when it unspooled on the side closest to the wall, instead of the side closest to her. It was a minor thing, and she knew she shouldn't bother with it, but she nevertheless set about pulling off the roll and turning it to the way she preferred it. Jaclyn realized it was a hopeless battle. Champ was always turning it back anyway.  
There was a buzz behind her. Champ was motioning back and forth across his jaw, using an electric razor and not noticing she had changed the roll. As he stepped to one side, the shaver's electrical cord was pulled tightly across her back as he stretched it out.  
Ignoring it, Jaclyn started cleaning up the toothpaste mess. But each time she wiped, it was hard to keep the clutter on the sink from falling off.  
The buzz of the electric shaver was the only sound. Then Champ finished and turned it off.  
Standing in front of the sink, Jaclyn pulled off the simple night shirt she was wearing after her shower, slipping it up over her head, leaving her topless. Her back was to Champ, revealing only her soft, pale shoulders, and the delicate line of her spine. For a moment that neither of them noticed, she looked extremely beautiful and enticing. But when Champ's eyes slid past the familiar sight, he didn't blink even once.  
Having gone through the same routine every morning countless times before, Jaclyn didn't notice Champ's lack of reaction either, simply twisting back, arm reaching out to take her bra off the hook on the door. She nestled it gently across the curves of her soft body, buttoning it up behind her. Neither of them saw the beauty of the other through the drudgery of the morning routine, instead seeing only ways to get around each other in the small space.  
Jaclyn was quietly sliding a skirt up her legs, more in a hurry to get dressed now as time seemed to run short. She was always running late, ever since they had started to share the apartment. Champ was hurrying to finish up too, leaning over beside her, still struggling for space in the mirror.  
Looking around, Jaclyn blinked when she couldn't find the rest of her outfit. Still wearing the bra that inadvertently emphasized her figure, she reached down instead and started to button up her skirt.  
"Champ, could you check for me and see if I left my blouse out on the bed? Please?"  
Champ looked at her, exhaling slightly in frustration. She was using up most of the mirror again anyway, starting to brush her teeth.  
"Sure..." he said dryly, squeezing past her and knowing he would just have to wait to finish, as usual.  
Champ walked into their small bedroom, still feeling a little frustrated at the cramped spaces Jaclyn's tiny apartment had forced on them. It was mornings like these that he sometimes missed the single life, and the space of his old place, the apartment he had shared with Trevor. More room, more space, and more freedom to move. He didn't want it back, and he knew he still loved Jaclyn, but some mornings were just harder than most.  
With a sigh he scanned through the bedroom. The sheets were a rumpled mess on the bed. Jaclyn tossed a lot in her sleep. It looked like he would be the one making the bed again this morning. As he kept searching, there was no sign of Jaclyn's blouse.  
"Jackie, I don't see it out here..."  
"It's right there..."  
"Well, I don't see it."  
"The red one. It's gotta be there," Jaclyn called out from the bathroom. "Check the bottom right drawer of the dresser."  
Champ seemed a little more annoyed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he opened the bottom right drawer of her dresser. Jaclyn had resorted to putting more of her clothes in drawers to make room for his things in the bedroom's small closet. Sure enough, there was the shimmering satin red blouse Jaclyn was looking for, sitting on top of several others.  
"Here it is..."  
"Thanks..." she said from the bathroom.  
As Champ pulled out the blouse, he held it up and suddenly smiled. It was his favorite blouse of hers. She always looked really stunning in it, and as he thought about it, those memories flashed back to him. Still smiling, he laid it gently on the bed, feeling better as he looked down on it. Then he realized how much he did love her. And how he wouldn't trade this for anything. Turning, Champ bent back down to close the drawer shut, looking down into it. But suddenly he paused, going completely still at what he saw at the bottom of the drawer.  
When he had pulled Jaclyn's blouse out, the stack of neatly folded clothes underneath it had shifted slightly, revealing something hidden beneath them. That was what had made him freeze, what had put a stunned look on his face.  
Reaching down under the clothes, he slowly slid it out. Holding it in his hands, he lifted the magazine, still in a complete state of shock.  
It was a bridal magazine.  
Champ sat motionless, not knowing what to think. He blinked, lips parted slightly. He couldn't have been more surprised if someone had suddenly dropped a bucket of cold water on him. His eyes were frozen wide open, making sure he was holding what he almost certainly seemed to be holding.  
Yep. It was still a bridal magazine.  
The magazine's glossy cover framed a picture of a young, blushing bride. With a look like a deer caught in the headlights, Champ opened the magazine and started to blankly leaf through it. He noticed that there was a yellow highlighter pen clipped to the back cover of the thick volume. And as his surprised hands cautiously flipped through the pages, he noticed that there were all sorts of articles and photos of bridal accoutrements. And on several pages, there was Jaclyn's handwriting on them. On page after page she had circled various little things she liked with the yellow highlighter pen. Some fancy champagne glasses here, some floral arrangements there...  
Champ's body went even colder.  
Near the middle of the magazine, Jaclyn had circled several potential wedding dresses, including one that she had circled twice, highly enthusiastic about it. There was a beautiful, smiling young woman modeling the dress, and the dress itself was stunning. Outside of her circles, Jaclyn had scribbled in large letters THIS IS THE ONE!!!  
Champ exhaled, finally remembering that he still needed to breathe. He looked down at the perfect image of the woman in the wedding dress, smiling like she had a flawless life ahead of her, and he suddenly didn't know how he could live up to that. Fear welled up deep inside him, slicing like ice beneath his skin as he sat there stunned, on the edge of the bed, holding the magazine. He wasn't ready for this, not so suddenly. He hadn't expected this at all. The air seemed to tighten around his body. The room was silent around him, except for the faint sound he could hear through the open bathroom door where Jaclyn was brushing her teeth, water running in the sink and unaware.  
In a daze Champ closed the bridal magazine, fingers grazing over the yellow highlighter Jaclyn had left on it's back. He sat there with his mouth hanging open, his mind racing.  
He didn't hear Jaclyn finishing up, didn't hear the water in the sink turning off. Suddenly she appeared in the doorway behind him, still in her bra and skirt as she leaned out, seeing him sitting there with his back to her, motionless.  
"Champ? My blouse?"  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard her and realized she was standing there. Instantly he dropped the bridal magazine to the floor where she couldn't see, kicking it quickly underneath the bed, coming out of his daze.  
Leaning forward against the doorframe, Jaclyn tilted her head and looked at him, curious at his reaction. "Champ, are you okay? You look a little green."  
He stammered nervously for an answer. "Umm... Y-Yeah. I just.... I was just remembering. The first time I saw you in this blouse."  
Champ motioned to where the blouse was on the bed. "You always look great in it."  
Jaclyn smiled, and it lit up the room. "Really? Thanks... You're sweet."  
Walking over to the bed and picking it up, she paused and gave him another long look as he sat stiffly across from her, making her wonder what was going on. "You sure you're ok?"  
Champ sincerely hoped he wasn't sweating. "Yeah... I'm ok."  
Saying nothing else, Jaclyn went back into the bathroom to finish getting dressed.  
As soon as Jaclyn was gone Champ bent forward, reaching down in a flash and yanking the bridal magazine out from under the bed. As quickly as he could, he replaced it under the pile of clothes in the drawer where it had been hidden, his hands frantic, as if the magazine were hot to the touch. Once he replaced it, Champ slammed the drawer closed again.  
He sat there on the edge of the bed, a worried look in his eyes as he glanced over at the open bathroom door, tapping his fingers nervously on his knees. There was no reaction from the bathroom. Jaclyn didn't seem to notice that he had done anything at all.  
Champ finally let out a relieved breath. His head was still spinning, tumbling over the ramifications of what he had just found. His voice was a soft, stunned whisper.  
"Oh boy..." he said.  
  


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	2. perigee pg 02

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The polished tile flooring of the hallway was smooth and clean as it slid past, dim in the building's comfortable light. A woman's feet walked forward, clad in soft fabric shoes, with pale blue scrubs just visible above on her legs as she walked past the closed doors of doctors offices. The hallway was quiet as the woman walked, and no one else was nearby. Except for the two sets of much heavier footsteps trailing right behind her. Their shoes were black and hard, utilitarian, belonging to two men, their white scrubs made of thicker fabric. Following her carefully, they remained flanked behind her to either side. All three pairs of legs quietly continued their walk, their dress strangely out of place, conspicuous against the elegant, well furnished and polished hallway sliding past as their steps echoed in the still air.  
The woman walking in front of the two burly hospital orderlies kept her eyes on the floor, her shoulders drooping. She was young and attractive, blond hair and blue eyes. But her body was plainly draped with pale blue hospital scrubs, and her eyes seemed empty and distant, like she wasn't even there. Behind her, her two chaperones bristled with subtle muscles, dressed in the simple white of hospital employees. Their gazes were intent, fully aware as they kept an eye on the woman. No one said anything as they continued down the plush hallway, door after door sliding by.  
Still not lifting her gaze, the woman's right arm reached across her body, taking hold of her left arm hanging down by her side. As she walked down the hallway, her right hand started rubbing along the pale skin of her arm, almost out of reflex, almost for a sense of comfort. Beneath her fingers, she rubbed on some scribbles on her skin written in felt tip marker, black ink marks which she had put there with great care and precision. The woman had drawn an impromptu picture there, almost like a crude tattoo, but done in marker and far from permanent. As her hand continued its soothing rubs, the design began to smear and smudge slightly, streaking vaguely under her fingers. It was a picture of a heart, and in its center, she had written one simple word. CUPID. She didn't notice the smudges, merely comforted that it was there. When she pulled her hand away, her fingertips were tinged with ink. The design remained on her pale arm, smudged but readable.  
The trio finally stopped their walk down the hallway, coming to a halt in front of a particular door. When they stopped, the pretty blond woman slowly looked up for the first time. She wasn't wearing any make up, and there was the slightest bags under her eyes. She wasn't sleeping well. As she looked over and read the letters on the door displayed beside her, for the first time the tiniest bit of fear seemed to pass over her features. But the emotion passed and then her face seemed empty again, looking away from the shiny gold letters on the polished wood of the door after reading what they spelled.  
  
**Dr. Ian Frechette**  
  
Moving past her, one of the burly orderlies stepped up towards the door. He exhaled reluctantly, a little annoyed that they were forced to be there. Lifting his hand, he gently knocked on the door, waiting. After a few moments the door opened and Ian Frechette stepped out. The balding man had glasses, a thin beard, and nearly constant arrogance in his eyes. As he stepped past, he didn't spare a glance towards the orderly who had knocked, ignoring him as if he wasn't even there. Instead his hard gaze locked on the woman, examining her as he paused, aloof before his open office door. She remained bracketed between the two orderlies, quiet, looking small in comparison to them.  
"Hello Faith. I'm Dr. Frechette. It's good to see you..." He spoke simply, without warmth, his voice firm and assured.  
Faith said nothing, her eyes staring blankly at the floor.  
Frechette's head tilted almost imperceptibly, marginally annoyed that she refused to acknowledge him. The body of the woman before him seemed to have almost gone empty, like no one was home, simply standing there. Frechette's gaze lowered to her side, and he saw the slightly smudged heart and the word Cupid written on her arm in black marker. His brow furrowed slightly, disturbed. As he spoke to the orderly, his eyes didn't leave the scribbled image.  
"You allowed her to write on herself?"  
"We've tried to take the markers away, Doctor. She keeps hiding them in places we can't find."  
Frechette exhaled, looking up into Faith's eyes again. She didn't look back at him. Finally he spoke. "Wash her before you bring her to me next time. I don't want her with those marks in my office."  
"Yes, sir."  
Frechette smiled at the quiet woman, but the effect was far from comforting. "Why don't you come inside, Faith."  
She did as she was told, walking blankly past him and into the elegant furnishings of his office, leaving the orderlies in the hallway. Frechette turned to follow her, when suddenly one of the orderlies reached out and touched his shoulder, stopping him. Frechette slowly looked down at the man's hand on him before looking up, a hardness in his eyes.  
The orderly's mouth tightened. "Dr. Frechette... I think you really should consider holding these sessions in lock down on the ward. It would be a lot safer for everyone involved."  
Pushing the orderly's hand off his shoulder like he was sweeping dust off his suit, Frechette stared at the man, his voice dry and unchallengeable. "I want to do this here. In more comfortable surroundings for both her, and me. And because I've risen to a point of prominence in this hospital... I can. Anything beyond that, isn't your call. Do we understand each other?"  
Ignoring Frechette's contempt, the orderly had concern in his eyes as he continued. "At least let us wait out here in the hall until you're done. It's a mistake to not have a guard here. Miss Simmons is dangerous..."  
The corner of Frechette's lip curled up slightly, smugness in his eyes. "I"m aware of who the patient is. You don't have to remind me. But I won't have you two hovering outside my door. Now... When I'm done with this patient, I'll call for you. Are we clear?"  
The tone in Frechette's voice made it obvious that he would hear no argument on the matter. The orderly sighed. "Yes, sir..."  
With nothing further, Frechette turned and walked into his office, closing the door behind him. The two orderlies stood there for a moment, amazed at Dr. Frechette's arrogance. Suddenly one of them turned and flipped his middle finger at the closed door.  
Still reluctant to leave, feeling like it was the wrong thing to do, they finally turned away from the door.  
"Come on..." one said to the other, and they walked away, heading back to the ward. As they disappeared down the hallway, they left the closed door of Dr. Frechette's office behind them. The hallway became quiet again, Frechette now alone with Faith inside.  
  
Faith was seated in the single chair in front of Frechette's desk, not moving. Instead she was looking around, her eyes slowly scanning the grey, expensively furnished office. It was decorated in dark, almost Wagnerian colors and motifs, slate and steel. She wasn't used to being surrounded with such elegant decor, a stark contrast to the pale sterility of the ward.  
Frechette was sitting behind a rather imposing black desk, morning light filling the arched window behind him as he bent forward and wrote some preliminary notes down before the session began, ignoring her. He had some music playing softly on a stereo deck in the background, a simple, mournful piece of delicate piano music.  
Going still, Faith listened to the music for a few moments, feeling its melody, taking it in. It moved her, delving deeply in for some unexpected reason. She continued to listen, almost lost in it. Finally she spoke, her voice soft.  
"What are you listening to..."  
Frechette looked up for only a brief glance, still distracted by what he was writing. "What? Oh... It's Chopin."  
As he continued to write, he didn't notice Faith listening to the music, her head tilting to one side. For awhile her face remained expressionless. But then, barely visible, her eyes began to crumble, tears starting to glisten in them. Her voice sounded wounded, like a crushed whisper. "It's sad..." she breathed.  
That did make Frechette look up and take notice, pausing in his writing when he heard that. He was surprised by the tears that were almost in her eyes. Considering her for a moment, he tried to judge whether her reaction was genuine, before offering her an empty smile.  
"Faith... I hope you're not simply trying to manipulate me into letting my guard down. That's not going to happen. I want these sessions to be profitable for both of us. But I won't play games. Now I had to exert considerable influence to hold these sessions here in my office. But I still know what you're capable of. Don't try to escape. The orderlies are waiting just outside the door."  
Without a further bit of concern, he looked down, fully comfortable. Faith looked a little stung by his admonition, wiping her eyes, the tears still there.  
Not aware of what she was doing, Faith's hand reached over again, nervously caressing the Cupid heart she had drawn on her arm. Frechette looked up, curious about that mannerism, before asking her a question.  
"Why did you write that on your arm, Mary. Some form of defiance? Maybe to prove something? Or maybe because you have to remind yourself of what you're supposed to believe in."  
She stared at him blankly. "To remind myself of what I love."  
He blinked. "In marker that washes off? Is it because that way... you know it won't be permanent?"  
Faith's eyes seemed sad, but there was a spark of certainty in them. "Nothing that exists is permanent, Doctor."  
Frechette put down his pen, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, interlocking his fingers as he gave her a long serious look, thinking hard about her. He finally started the session in a more specific fashion. "Ok... Now listen to me. We're here to work. This isn't meant to be fun, and it won't be. We're not here for laughs. I plan to get to the root of your condition. You're masking something which must have been very painful, Mary. Something none of your other doctors have found. Something you want secret. Something I intend to expose. I think we should start with the center of your construct. So in your own words, I want you to tell me about this religion of yours. This 'faith'. What do you believe in. I want you to tell me how things really are in the world."  
She glared at him, defiant. "Why? I know you don't believe me..."  
"Then show me I'm wrong..." Frechette leaned back against his chair with a glint in his eye as he issued the challenge. "Go on. You know you want to. To tell me how I'm wrong and you're right. Wipe this smugness off my face. Why don't we start with what you've built everything around. The person you followed around. Who's every move you watched and obsessed over. The man who finally pushed you over the edge. The man you shot. No lies, Mary. No telling me what you assume I want to hear. Tell me what you really believe. And why it's so important that you hold on to those beliefs. Who knows? Maybe you'll even convince me..."  
Frechette suddenly grinned smugly. Faith said nothing, her gaze simmering on his and not believing him for a second.  
He leaned forward again, his expression hard in the quiet of his office, watching her without warmth.  
"So... Tell me why you call yourself Faith. And tell me about... you and Cupid."  
  
"So tell me about you and Cupid." Jaclyn asked with a playful expression..  
Claire smiled slightly in response, a definite shine in her eye. "I don't know Cupid. I know Trevor. But I don't know Cupid."  
The two women were Taggerty's, talking at a booth in the back. Behind them, an ample late night crowd filled the bar, having a good time. The large room was dim and lively, neon signs glowing over the heads of the crowd as liquor flowed and music thumped. People were dancing as a rock band performed on stage with lights shining brightly down as they played an energetic song.  
Jaclyn and Claire were isolated from the throng, seated in their booth by the wall where they had slipped away to talk privately. They had already been there talking for a few minutes, drinks on the table before them as Claire sat across from Jaclyn. But Claire wasn't able to hide the smile on her face, peaking Jaclyn's curiosity. She was smiling even now as Jaclyn waited for an answer to the question she had asked. Claire seemed to have been smiling a lot lately.  
"So?" Jaclyn prompted again, now even more eager to know the details behind Claire's smile.  
Claire seemed to almost brush away the question,. But as she looked out at the crowd, her face remained unmistakably happy. "I don't know what you are talking about."  
Jaclyn smiled.  
"Must be going pretty good between you two, Claire" Considering her, Jaclyn leaned in a little closer, offering a compliment at what she saw. "You look different."  
"I do not." Claire protested lightly.  
"Oh come on, Claire... You're _glowing_."  
"That's not--" Claire paused, unable to hide the joy in her eyes, the band still playing on stage behind her. "That's--... It's just that the lighting is good in here. That's all..."  
"Yeah. And Trevor's your own personal cinematographer. He's got you shining like twelve spotlights are following only you." she teased.  
"You're imagining things, Jaclyn." Claire chuckled slightly as she looked down, but even she didn't seem to believe what she had said.  
Amused by Claire's obvious denial, Jaclyn shook her head. As she faced Claire, her gaze dropped slightly, and she suddenly noticed something. Jaclyn's lips parted a little, her brow furrowing. "Claire... is that a more low cut top than usual?"  
Blinking, Claire glanced down at the generous amount of skin showing down her front. Her fingers made a absent attempt to cover up a little. "Not that I'm aware of..."  
"Right..." Jaclyn said softly, obviously not believing her.  
Claire sighed, still unconcerned as she exuded contentment and happiness.  
"You are different..." Jaclyn noticed quietly, smiling with approval at the change in her. "Trevor looks good on you..."  
  
"Ok... Ok I'm just going to have to tell Jaclyn about it. Tell her upfront. I'll just say I found the bridal magazine, and, and..."  
Whispering softly to himself, Champ was pacing nervously back and forth, alone behind the crowded bar. He was surrounded on all sides by people crowded along the railing, none of them paying attention to him. As Champ continued his turn at bartender, he seemed to be doing more pacing than bartending. His steps seemed jittery, restless as he paced anxiously. Champ's shift was almost over and soon he would be walking home with Jaclyn. And he was nervous because deep down, he knew he couldn't put off what he had found in her drawer any longer. He had to get it out in the open. So as he waited to get off work, he was softly talking to himself, trying to build up his courage before his shift ended.  
"I've just got to tell her..." He told himself again, not sure he could and speaking softly, pacing as he ignored the festive chaos in the crowd beyond the railing. "There's no other way. We've got to get this out in the open between us."  
Champ still felt nervous. As he looked up at the clock again, he felt the minutes slip away. Inside he knew he had to ask Jaclyn about the bridal magazine, ask where she expected their relationship to go. But he didn't know how to do it. Since he had seen the magazine he didn't even know how to act around Jaclyn anymore, wondering if he was giving out too much, or giving out too little. Even now he felt anxious, knowing she was somewhere out there in the crowd, waiting,. Waiting for him to get off work.  
Before he realized it, he was pacing again as if trying to somehow buy himself time to think. But his mind remained a jumble, tumbling over his own feelings on the subject. How would Jaclyn know what she felt even he didn't himself? There was a bowl of pecans encased in their shells nearby on the bar. Once again Trevor had ordered the wrong kind of nut. Reaching over, Champ took a pair, a little anxious as he tried to crack two of them together between both of his palms, straining for several attempts. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't crack them open. Just like he couldn't crack open what he himself wanted with Jaclyn, or what he was afraid of losing if they didn't want the same things. Champ finally gave up on the nuts. He looked up as the minutes passed on the clock above him, knowing what he had to do.  
A hand touched his shoulder. "Hey, Champoo..."  
His entire body nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise, sending the unopened nuts flying from his hands. He turned around.  
Trevor gave Champ a look as he pulled his hand back, confused by that reaction. He was working behind the bar tonight too. "Hey, what's with you?"  
Champ took a breath to settle himself. "Umm, what do you mean?"  
Trevor walked past him, still giving Champ a curious look as he started pouring and combining bottles of liquor, filling drink orders for the noisy crowd. "You seem a little jumpy tonight."  
"Oh. Well... it's been a long day."  
Nodding, Trevor handed out the finished drinks to some guys waiting on the other side of the bar, taking the money they gave him. "Aren't you almost off shift yet?"  
Champ looked over at him nervously, before picking up two more nuts in their shells, trying anew to crack them open."Yeah. Few more minutes till I'm free..."  
Trevor was looking down as he made another set of drinks. But as he answered the corner of his lip curled up. "Hey. Wish you had closing shift instead of me. Just be grateful that your time's running out..."  
Taking the drinks, Trevor passed him again, patting him on the shoulder as he walked away to deliver the drinks to the other side of the bar. Behind him, dread seemed to pass over Champ's face at those words, speaking softly to himself as he stood there. "Yeah. I know..."  
Exhaling, he continued trying to crack open the hard pecans.  
  
At their table, Jaclyn exhaled eagerly, pressing her question on Claire again. "So are you going to tell me about you and Trevor or not? How have things been going between you two? Have they been great?"  
Claire paused, looking like the elation she hid on her face was almost ready to burst. Then she couldn't hold it in any longer, collapsing slightly as a smile burst across her face, her words a joyous exhalation. "Things are wonderful, Jaclyn."  
Jaclyn laughed, pleased. "Ok. Come on. Time to share. Woman to woman. I want a stack of lurid details sitting right here on the table between us. About time for some girl time. Let's talk... _'the relationship'._"  
Claire blushed, still smiling as she gave in and thought about Trevor. But for a moment she held back, looking over at the noisy crowd dancing in front of the rock band playing on stage. "Maybe we shouldn't Jackie. It's supposed to be a big secret, remember?"  
Jaclyn tilted her head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "What, you don't think Champ and Trevor aren't discussing every little thing you've done in pornographic detail over at the bar?"  
Amused, Claire pressed her lips together. "Oh somehow I doubt it..."  
Jaclyn huffed to the contrary. "You don't think Champ and Trevor talk about you? Men talk. That they're closed up with each other when it comes to relationships is just an old wives's tale. The truth is men talk as deeply about their feelings as women do..."  
  
Champ finally gave up on the nuts, deciding to change the subject. Trevor was passing with more drinks and he calmly stopped him.  
"Trevor, been meaning to ask. How's it going between you and Claire. Thing's cool?"  
Trevor thought about it, then nodded. "Cool."  
"Cool." Champ acknowledged as both men moved off, the conversation over.  
  
Claire continued her detailed description.  
"It's like this feeling, feelings I've never felt, Jaclyn. Feelings I've had words for, but never understood until now. These deep emotional, spiritual resonances. That validate everything. Everything we've waited for. Everything we've dreamed of. Trevor's been so perfect. He fulfills me in every way..."  
Jaclyn simply sighed at the contentment in Claire's words, cheek resting on her palm as she gazed at her softly, caught up in Claire's narrative, happy for her. "Claire, I'm so ecstatic that it finally happened between you..."  
Suddenly Jaclyn's eyebrow lifted a little more suggestively at what Claire had said. "Fulfilled? In every way?"  
"Sure."  
Jaclyn leaned in closer. "So when fulfillment finally... you know. Fufill. How was he?"  
Claire paused, looking almost nervous as she blinked. "What do you mean?"  
"You know..." Jaclyn's voice grew playful, twisting a shoulder forward to rest her chin coyly on it, a seductive light in her eyes, teasing. "It's been a few weeks now of hot and heavy. So how was it when you two finally moved on to... the next level?"  
Claire's lips parted, her face going still. She glanced over, giving Jaclyn a long, uncertain look as she searched for words.  
  
Finally Trevor forced his response out, reluctantly answering Champ's question, but looking a little embarrassed by it. "Well... Claire and I... We haven't actually... got there yet."  
Champ's mouth dropped open like a stone without being aware of it. He was frozen in shock, totally not expecting what Trevor had just said. "You haven't?"  
  
"We haven't." Claire answered, softly touching her neck uncomfortably, looking across the table into Jaclyn's bewildered eyes.  
Not knowing what to say, Jaclyn could only blink as she leaned back across from Claire, totally flummoxed. If she had been an alley pin, she would have been bowled over.  
  
"At all?" Champ tried to keep the staggering disbelief out of his voice. He was still attempting to process that information, staring blankly at Trevor as he tried to force the thought into a once certain worldview. Facing away as he poured more drinks, Trevor nodded, trying to smile in good humor at Champ's reaction, but embarrassed though he had expected to see it.  
"All right. Laugh it up, fuzz ball..." Trevor said.  
Champ stepped closer, still struggling for words, teasing him now. "W-wait. But... I-I don't understand. Let me get this straight. She's a relationship expert. You're Mr. Love Omniscient. Yet you and Claire haven't--"  
Champ gestured his hands helplessly through mid-air.  
"Nope." Trevor finally admitted, still making drinks. "Not even a drive by."  
"Existence as I knew it no longer has meaning..." Champ leaned back on a wooden support pillar nearby, honestly stunned again, still searching for words. "But... I mean you're physically able to, right?"  
Without turning from his drinks, Trevor reached up without looking to immediately slap him hard across the cheek at the mere suggestion, before going smoothly back to making drinks and not losing a beat.  
Champ blinked at the unexpected rebuke, caught off guard. "Guess I'll take that as a whopping yes..."  
  
Jaclyn still couldn't believe what she knew she had heard. "Wow, Claire. I thought you--... I mean, I assumed by now that--... Wow, Claire."  
Claire took a sip of her drink, definitely sharing the sentiment. "Yeah... Welcome to where I already am, Jaclyn."  
Leaning forward, Jaclyn lowered her voice. "But why haven't you?"  
Claire looked uncomfortable again. "Well... It's been tough. Hard giving in."  
"You two have never been easy." Jaclyn pressed her question. "I know you both want to, Claire. Herds during mating season have given off less pheromones for each other. Why have you held back? I mean, don't you feel it?"  
Thinking about Trevor, Claire's face seemed to heat with sudden desire. Her skin flushed, her eyes dilated as if she were looking into a flame. She laughed, almost growling at what simmered inside her. "Jackie, I see Trevor... And my heart races. My blood burns. And all I want to think about, all I want to do is to rip off all our clothes and just tackle him right there... I want him so badly that I think I'm--"  
  
"--going crazy, Champoo. I could go crazy from this!"  
Champ smiled. "Now there's a contradiction in terms."  
Trevor ignored him, pacing behind the bar as he tried to explain the raging desires Claire churned inside him. "Champ, there's this fire she puts inside my--" He looked down "... ok, chest. I've never felt this way before. I want to touch her all the time. You have no idea. I want to taste her lips again, taste her kiss on mine, and--" Trevor's steps quickened, pacing even faster second by second and groaning in frustration. Noticing, Champ slowly lifted his eyes. He watched as Trevor grew more and more frantic, motioning with his arms as he explained it desperately to Champ.  
"But-But we keep getting stopped! Or interrupted! Or--.. Or the time isn't right! Or the moon isn't aligned--"  
Trevor was pacing back and forth even faster. "And then! THEN there are fathers showing up. Or some-some guy URINATING beside us! Then sprinklers! And alarms! And and whoosh! Lights blinking! Noise blaring! Water, water everywhere!!"  
Champ finally reached out, stopping him as Trevor started to lose it. "Ok. Ok, I get it Caffeine boy."  
  
Across the table, Jaclyn's brow furrowed, trying to take in what Claire was saying. "But I still don't understand. What's been so hard about making the situation right?"  
"I don't know." Moaning, Claire rubbed her forehead wearily. "I wish I did. But what I do know is that all this pent up, burning hot frustration is just making me--"  
  
"--horny enough to make a minotaur blush from a size complex!" Trevor was still pacing as he explained to Champ, somewhat calmer now. Listening, they were both still behind the bar. Champ had returned to trying to crush two pecans open between his palms again.  
"God, these things are hard as steel, Trevor! That's the last time I let you order for the bar. They're supposed to be peanuts, Trevor. PEA-nuts. Not pecans. No one can eat these. Little ironic, since I figured you'd be the expert on nuts." Champ was still struggling to crack one open.  
Reaching out, Trevor snatched one of them out of Champ's grasp. With almost no effort, he cracked it open in the closed palm of one hand before giving it back, going back to his pacing again. "Ok. Like I was saying, I've been horny enough to--"  
Holding the open pecan, Champ looked over at him still babbling away, amazed at how easily Trevor had done that, thinking about it.  
"Trevor, how did you get your hands strong enough to--"After a moment, Champ shook his head. "Ok. I don't want to know..."  
Trevor grabbed another walnut for himself, cracking it effortlessly open in one hand again before popping the meaty parts into his mouth, chewing, looking just as nervous as Champ had earlier. "Champoo, if this keeps up much longer, my arm muscles are finally going to-- And grow up! I know what your dirty mind is thinking, and I'm not even going to acknowledge something so childish and--"  
Suddenly Trevor stopped, blinking, looking into thin air. Turning his head from side to side, he reached out, clawing at nothing, hamming it up as he fumbled around. "Wait... Oh no. I'm blind! I'm blind, I can't see! Oh crap, the nuns were right!"  
  
"Claire..." Still sitting across the table from her in the booth, Jaclyn suddenly seemed reluctant to bring up her own suspicions. "Claire, maybe the right situation isn't the problem. Maybe the problem's not a place at all. Maybe it's you and Trevor."  
Claire blinked at the suggestion. "Meaning?"  
  
Standing with Trevor behind the bar, Champ shrugged. "Meaning how hard is it to find a decent hotel room."  
Disagreeing, Trevor shook his head, already handing out more drinks to customers as he tried to calm himself.  
"No, it's not like that. Claire and I just--"  
  
"--want it to be special." Claire finished, still seeing the doubt in Jaclyn's eyes.  
Jaclyn didn't seem to buy it as she answered back. "And it wouldn't be 'special' regardless? It's not about finding some elusive, perfect place, Claire. There are tons of romantic hotel rooms in Chicago. Places that are beautiful, discreet... Maybe it's not a place. Maybe it's that neither of you are ready."  
  
Trevor laughed at that.  
"Totally ridiculous, man."  
Champ didn't budge, crossing his arms. "Is it?"  
"Hey, I was born ready. Says so on the job scroll." Trevor nodded confidently, standing behind the bar, in his element, totally certain. Then he paused, not as certain. "What do you mean by ready?"  
"Well..." Champ looked away, his eyes seeming to grow distant. Suddenly he was thinking about Jaclyn, his mind flashing with images of her in a bridal dress. "Now that you two have reached this point. Now that you're finally there, maybe you're just afraid..."  
Trevor huffed the thought away, shaking his head. "Afraid? Afraid of what. We love each other. Amarie omnia vincent. Happy ending and all that. What could we be afraid of?"  
"That you love each other..." Champ answered simply. He tried to keep his voice from wavering with his own concerns. "That now there's somebody in your life who you can hurt. And who can hurt you back. Might make someone scared of the future. Of all you have to lose now..."  
  
Claire looked down at that suggestion.  
"I don't know, Jaclyn..." She considered what Jaclyn had said, not necessarily agreeing but allowing herself to consider it. "I don't know. Maybe we are afraid... I mean this could change everything. And once it's done, it's done. You can't take it back. It could alter our relationship, change everything we have together."  
"Love changes, Claire. It's never the same from day to day." Jaclyn leaned slowly forward over the table, her voice comforting, but with absolute certainty in her eyes. "Love changes all the time. It's when it still stays anyway, that you know it's love..."  
Claire thought about that for a moment.  
  
Trevor exhaled, tossing the thought away. "Champ, it's not change we're afraid of. That's just not it."  
Champ raised his eyebrow. "Really? How are things right now. You're both supposed to keep this deep dark secret. Only Jaclyn and I know about it. Look at Claire sitting over there talking with her. In a minute or two, Jaclyn and I will leave, and Claire will be sitting there alone with only her secret for company. How long do you think that'll last? Is she going to sit alone every Friday night out in public for the rest of her life to keep that secret? Maybe that's what you're really afraid of..."  
Trevor shook his head, curious at Champ's suddenly negative outlook. "She won't be alone..."  
Champ sighed. "If you really believed that, then why haven't you two notched up several continental forests worth of headboards by now?"  
Trevor's lips parted, searching for an answer, but finding none. Trying to cover up, he sputtered. "Well I... I'm still hung up on that whole no sex with mortals clause. Remember?"  
Champ smiled, seeing through it. "I know you, Trevor. That's crap and you know it. It's been awhile since you gave a damn about what the gods think where Claire's involved."  
Trevor sighed, his voice a little uncertain."Don't be so sure..."  
Looking at him, Champ stepped closer. "Trevor, it's not the gods you're afraid of."  
Trevor didn't deny it. "Then what?"  
"You're afraid of the same thing everyone's afraid of. Claire's afraid of it too. Crossing some inerasable line of no return that you can't fix if it goes bad. That scares you to death. Because things could be so different after... and would be." Champ looked away, picturing Jaclyn again. "A commitment like that, to a relationship you've invested yourself in. Something you've held on to for so long that you're petrified of losing it. Or doing the wrong things. So you end up not knowing what to do. You don't know where to go, or if you should just see it through, or if you should just specifically ask her about it. Sometimes you just feel like giving up... Face it. We're talking really big step her..." Champ realized what he had just said, correcting himself. "Wait... I meant 'here'. Not 'her'. Here. "  
Trevor's brow furrowed as he listened, wondering where Champ's words were coming from. Champ wasn't looking at him, staring down as if he had been talking to himself.  
Trevor blinked. "Stretching sort of far to make a point there, Mr. Terrace..."  
  
"Maybe. Maybe I am stretching, Jaclyn." Claire couldn't hide the worry in her eyes now. She finally said what was bothering her as she lowered her gaze and spoke softly, the bar noisy in the distance as the rock band played. "Maybe I'm afraid Trevor will end up... resenting me."  
Jaclyn leaned back. "What?"  
"Think about it, Jaclyn. What would Trevor be giving up for me? His immortality?" She looked over at Jaclyn as they sat in the booth, unable to keep the concern from her eyes.  
Jaclyn seemed surprised at that. "I thought you didn't believe in that."  
Claire sighed. "I don't. But I don't have to. Because Trevor does. Even if he doesn't talk about it. How's it supposed to work between two people with such radically different views? Being with me, challenges everything Trevor believes in. Someday, when Trevor has to confront his mortality, or even my mortality, he's going to have to face the real possibility that he never was a god. That he was always a simple human being after all. But what if he doesn't? What if he can't? What if, years down the road, he ends up thinking I'm the reason he lost his immortality? What if he holds it against me?"  
"Trevor loves you, Claire. He'd never--"  
"No. He wouldn't. Not in any way that he's aware of. But he believes it, Jaclyn. Down to the bone. You know that. He'll always believe he's Cupid, or WAS Cupid. And there are plenty of hidden places inside a person for resentment to fester. What if someday he realizes that for one brief moment, he felt abandoned. Pissed off at the gods. So he gave in to us being together and threw it all away in some stupid act of defiance."  
"Claire..." Jaclyn grabbed Claire's hand across the table top, her voice more forceful. "I hate to say this, but you're being incredibly stupid right now. You've found something precious. Something precious with Trevor. Something people search and hope for all their lives and never find. Don't get all icy toed on me just because you're suddenly aware it means something. Claire, you lost Trevor once. But now you have a second chance. Don't... dare... give it up."  
Claire looked up from the table, thinking about it.  
Jaclyn sighed. "Look, I gotta go. Goodnight, Claire... Don't worry so much, that's all. Trust yourself. Trust each other..."  
"Goodnight, Jaclyn..."  
Claire remained seated there, staring blankly over the crowd as the band on stage continued to play.  
  
Champ was staring blankly ahead too, his mind working.  
Standing beside him behind the bar, Trevor waved his hands across Champ's gaze, trying to bring him down to earth. "Ground control to Major Tom! Oh Champoo! Hello! Is there anybody in there?"  
Champ blinked, pushing his thoughts away. "Sorry, Trevor. My mind wandered..."  
"Where did it go, I wonder?" Ignoring more people calling for drinks, Trevor continued to look at him.  
"Nowhere..." Champ lowered his eyes. "Trevor, it's not such a stupid idea. What if you offer yourself to her, and you don't rock her world. What if you're less than.. _God-like_ together."  
Trevor smiled, bragging. "Oh I'm always godlike. Sort of the way I was built. Have you seen this butt?"  
Champ smiled, but his eyes were serious. "Can gods make mistakes, Trevor? What if in the end, you're only hurting her. Not thinking about what she wants. All the expectations she had for her life, that you can't live up to. Who knows, maybe things are just going too fast. Both of you jumping in before you have a chance to breathe, or to think about it. Sometime's it's better to go slow, think things through. To make sure. Especially if it prevents you from hurting someone you love. Or avoid getting into something that will never work out. Trevor I-- ... I don't know. I guess the only advice I can give you is to talk with her about it..."  
There was a certainty in Champ's eyes now, as if finally realizing something himself. "Talk with Claire, Trevor. I know you've both waited so long, but you got to know for sure it's right. A person's heart isn't something you just play around with. Either accept something that's real, or let her go and move on...   
Trevor looked away, thinking.  
Suddenly Jaclyn was there by the railing, leaning forward from the crowd. With a big smile, she angled towards them over the bar, happy to see Champ.  
"Hey you.." Her eyes sparkled at him, her words soft and tender.  
"Hey..." Champ smiled back. He still felt nervous about what he had to ask her about, but somehow it all seemed to fade a little at the mere sight of her. He was ready to confront this. "Hey, beautiful..."  
Jaclyn's skin tingled at the compliment. She lifted an eyebrow at him seductively, eager to leave with him. "You're shift's up..."  
Turning, Champ looked up at the clock behind him. He felt more confident, looking back at her. "So it is..."  
Resolve settled onto his face as he began to undo his apron. Jaclyn slipped around the edge of the bar while he wasn't watching, falling into his arms with a giggle, catching him by surprise. Champ laughed with her, not minding at all as he held her body close, looking down at her gratefully. Then, before he knew it, Jaclyn was warmly kissing him, not wanting to wait, instantly taking his breath away like she always did.  
Standing beside them, Trevor didn't seem to notice their long simmering kiss, his mind still working over what Champ had suggested. He absently reached out and took a pecan from the bowl, cracking it open with one hand and slowly eating the inside, thinking. Questions and concerns about him and Claire tumbled through his mind.  
"Sometime's love's a tough nut to crack..." he said absently to himself.  
Beside him, Champ pulled out of Jaclyn's kiss with a contented sigh, swimming in the afterglow of the heated touch of her lips, overriding his lingering doubts. Jaclyn kept her arms around the back of his neck, looking up at him lovingly. All Champ knew was that he felt better in her arms, despite knowing what he had to talk to her about.  
"Wanna get out of here?" Jaclyn asked him hopefully.  
"Yeah. Yeah I do. Let's get out of here. And Jaclyn..." Champ exhaled, a new certainty in his gaze. "There's something that I've been meaning to ask you about."  
"Really? What?"  
"Not here..." Champ looked into her beautiful brown eyes, touching the side of her face. "We can talk about it on the way home."  
Angling her head slightly , Jaclyn wondered what he meant. But it didn't seem to worry her, the light still in her eyes, giving him a small smile. "Ok..."  
They both walked out from behind the bar, Champ still in Jaclyn's arms. "See you, Trevor," he said over to him.  
"Yeah." Not really listening, Trevor stared blankly ahead, chewing slowly. He kept thinking about what Champ had brought up, about whether there was any real future between him and Claire. Would their relationship just end up causing her pain in the end? Inside, he knew that was his biggest fear. Was inevitable heartbreak all that he had to offer her? Suddenly Jaclyn was beside him again, having slipped out of Champ's arms just long enough to whisper something into Trevor's ear.  
"Claire look's kind of lonely over there..." she prodded him happily, trying to encourage him over to her with a happy look. Without another word she went back to Champ, both of them finally leaving.  
Trevor looked up, spotting Claire sitting alone across the bar, isolated. Suddenly he saw Jaclyn's words in a different light.  
"Yes she does..." he admitted sadly.  
  
Outside of Taggerty's, the night air held a slight chill, crisp as it hovered under a deep, vibrant, star speckled velvet sky that was just visible above the shadows of the buildings all around. At set intervals, streetlamps gleamed brightly overhead like some sort of nearer stars, their shining row of lights spilling down onto the darkened sidewalk below where Champ and Jaclyn were walking home, still in each other's arms.  
The two of them were alone in the tranquil surroundings, quiet and introspective as they passed beneath each streetlamp, moving slowly along the sidewalk. In the distance far behind them, the noise and colored lights of Taggerty's began to grow fainter, receding. Jaclyn's smaller shape was walking in front of Champ, smiling as she held onto his arms as he walked behind her, draped over her shoulders to warm her from the chill. Their steps were slow. Around them the still air whispered gently with the faint sounds of distant traffic.  
Neither seemed in any hurry to get home, enjoying their private time together. Jaclyn sighed contently, enjoying Champ near, enjoying how tenderly he was holding her. Behind her, Champ was relishing the quiet moment too. But walking where she couldn't see, his face was slowly growing more and more nervous again, knowing that now there were no more excuses stopping him from asking Jaclyn what he knew he had to ask her about.  
"Love's a hard thing to figure out sometimes..." Jaclyn finally said softly, looking down.  
Champ tensed a little in surprise, wondering for a moment is she had somehow guessed what he was thinking. "What?"  
She slipped out of his arms, stopping them under the glow of a streetlight. Turning, she held his hands between hers, looking up into his eyes. "Love," she explained. "It gets complicated sometimes. Giving in to that next step. Looking for what you want. Even when it's already right there in front of you. Both waiting, trying to find what they both already know they have..."  
Champ pulled back, even more nervous now. "Who?"  
Jaclyn smiled. "Trevor and Claire..."  
He flashed her a relieved smile. "Oh... Trevor and Claire. Right..."  
Looking down, Jaclyn began to rub her thumbs across the back of his hands, still holding them. "I can't believe how far they've come and they still can't finally give themselves to each other. They're still so cautious about it."  
"Yeah..." Champ chuckled self consciously, looking away. "Nothing's worse than cold feet..."  
"Not like you and me." Jaclyn smiled, agreeing with him. Looking up at him, there was a happiness in her eyes. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"  
Champ went still. "Huh..."  
"Back at the bar. Before we left..." Jaclyn stepped in closer, her body pressed flirtatiously up against his, making his entire body feel electrified in response. As Champ looked down at her, he had never seen her look more beautiful, more happy.  
She asked again, reminding him. "You mentioned that you needed to talk to me about something."  
"Oh. That. I... I don't remember." He lied.  
"Really? You made it sound important."  
"Hmm... Well, whatever it was, it can wait." Champ slid her around in front of him again as he draped himself over her shoulders, both starting to walk once more down the dim sidewalk while he held her. He loved the feel of her body pressed up against his. They passed out of the glow of a streetlight and into softer shadows. Champ suddenly realized how much he didn't want to lose that. He didn't want to lose her. It made him afraid of bringing the bridal magazine up at all, answering her. "I'm sure it wasn't important anyway..."  
Both of them were looking forward, and they suddenly noticed a pale glow rising above the dark outlines of the buildings around them. As they moved, more of the glow slid into view, brighter and brighter. Finally what was causing it appeared, a beautiful, nearly full moon slipped into the open, large and breathtaking as it rose higher.  
Jaclyn smiled at the romantic sight hovering in the sky, shining down on them, lighting their faces with a pale glow. "Look at that. A full moon..."  
Champ held her tighter. "Yeah..."  
"It's beautiful. Looks almost close enough to touch."  
"Sometimes.." He turned Jaclyn towards him, looking at her. "And sometimes it doesn't..."  
She smiled. "You realize that in a few days it will be lunar perigee?"  
"What's that?"  
"The closest the moon comes in years. The closest," she pressed her body against his, "two objects come together..."  
Reaching up to pull his chin down to hers, Jaclyn kissed him tenderly. Not questioning it, he kissed her back. Champ squeezed his eyes shut, trying to relish that one place in time as he held her tight. And the longer he spent in her kiss, the more his worries fell away from him, temporarily forgotten, concentrating only on her lips on him. Her kiss meant everything. She meant everything. Nothing else mattered. Even if he couldn't answer that unasked question yet. For now... everything else could wait.  
They stood together on the sidewalk as they kissed, a couple in love under the light of a streetlamp. Illuminated against the shadows behind them, they held each other tenderly. Jaclyn and Champ gently caressed each other's faces as they continued to kiss, not stopping. The world seemed tranquil around them, and for a moment they seemed to all appearances to be just another couple desperately in love.  
  
_** She's... so fine.  
She grows in their minds...**_  
  
An acoustic guitar played, strumming softly, and the crowd inside of Taggerty's quieted.  
  
_** She's... so fine.  
She grows in their minds...**_  
  
Suddenly the band up on stage played louder, going into a quicker cadence. The lead vocalist was standing in front of the microphone as they moved into the mid tempo song, singing to the crowd as colored stage lights flashed down on the band while they played, the drummer beating out a steady rhythm in the back.  
  
_** They look into her eyes  
and feel so surprised as  
she crawls under their skin  
they're ready to die for  
the miracle in July... **_   
  
Behind the bar, Trevor wasn't listening to the music, thinking only of Claire as he ignored the revelry of the crowd encircling him. He had a concerned look on his face, just one sole solitary figure in the empty space behind the bar as he whispered to himself, deep in thought.  
"That's ridiculous. I love Claire.I could never hurt her..." Then he suddenly seemed less certain. "But what if being with me is asking her for more than she should give? Shouldn't Claire be with someone... who the world doesn't see as some crazy mental case?"  
Lifting his gaze, Trevor spotted her again, sitting alone at her booth in the crowd as they all danced and laughed. He couldn't keep his eyes from her, seeing her there alone. And as he watched her, the rest of the people in the room seemed to fall away, seeing only her. She didn't realize he was looking at her. Claire seemed so separated in that moment, not joining the crowd, not moving from her spot. Merely watching everyone else have a good time in her solitude.  
"She shouldn't have to sit alone." Trevor whispered. "Is she going to sit alone all her life, keeping the love we feel a secret? No one with her, out in the open, always alone in a crowd."  
Face growing sadder, Trevor looked away. "Claire deserves better... Better than I can give her. Better than some crazy outpatient or fallen god. Better than me..."  
His face fell at the realization, considering something. "Maybe I am just hurting her in the end..."  
Suddenly Allison appeared out of the boisterous crowd. It showed no signs of letting up as the band continued to play loudly from the stage. She joined Trevor behind the bar, putting on a drink apron as she started her late bartending shift with him. The young, alluring blond was wearing a simple t-shirt that emphasized several eye catching curves on her body as she wrapped the drink apron around her waist. Her top was cut low in all the right places, her jeans emphasized the enticing curve of her hips. But Allison always looked like that. Sensuality just naturally oozed from her. She looked up at Trevor standing there distracted.  
"Hey, Trevor." Allison offered with a smile, tying off her apron. "Champ leave already?"  
"Yeah..." Trevor wasn't looking at her, barely seemed to notice she had spoken at all.  
"Oh..." Allison glanced down, disappointed. But then there was an appreciative glint in her eyes, growing confident, stepping closer to him. "Well, that's good anyway. I've really been wanting to get you alone. You're not over at our apartment much anymore, Roomie. I need your help with something."  
"Uh huh," Trevor spoke in a by rote way, as he watched Claire sitting there alone.  
Allison continued, looking like she was a little embarrassed, but still assertive. "Help of a Cupid variety. I want something. Something I think you can give me."  
"Great.." His tone hadn't changed, staring across the bar.  
Allison took a slow, seductive step closer, looking at him. "I didn't want to mention it, but... See, there's this guy I'm interested in. And I know I shouldn't be, because he's hung up on someone else. But me and this guy.. we used to spend a lot of time together. We used to have a lot of fun. But he's never around much anymore. I've tried to get over... this guy. You know, move on. But I can't. And it seems no matter how hard I flirt with him, I can't get him to notice me."  
Her brown eyes watched him, waiting for a response, before continuing when there wasn't one. "That's when I realized that I should come straight to the solution to my problem. To you."  
Trevor's mind was still on someone else across the bar, answering half heartedly. "Yeah... What for..."  
"Well, you're Cupid, right? This guy I like, but shouldn't like. You help with things like that. Legend even has it, you can fix up anyone with anyone. No matter who-" she stepped slightly closer, lowering her voice for him. "--that anyone might be..."  
Coming out of his fog for a brief moment, Trevor looked over at her. "Allison... You're beautiful. You're hot. What's the problem?"  
"Well this loveable guy... I work with him. Could say I'm crazy about him. But like I said, he's sorta with someone else. Something I know will never work out. They're all wrong for each other. But I'm not. I know it, if he would just notice me. Look, I've kept my distance until now. Well, sorta... I've never acted on it..." Allison raised her eyes to him. "So he doesn't know how I feel. Lately I've been trying to send him all the signals, but usually he just ignores them. Like I'm not even there."  
"How nice for you..." Trevor was still thinking to himself.  
"Trevor..." Reaching out, Allison gently touched his arm to get his attention. "Have you heard a word I've said?"  
"What?" He finally seemed to come out of it, catching up with their conversation, focusing briefly on her. "Oh. Right. Craziness. Signals. What's the problem. Jump him already."  
Allison looked at him softly. "Trevor, the situation isn't quiet that simple."  
He didn't buy it. "Except if you look right at it."  
"It's complicated." Allison looked away. "He's a friend, he doesn't seem to know how I feel. I'm scared about risking what we have together."  
He blinked at her words, echoing his own. "Doesn't seem to make as much sense when you say it.."  
She kept on, almost to herself now. "Not to mention this someone he's with. Or wants to be with. Everything's telling me I should back off and not tell--" She stopped herself. "... this guy, anything about it."  
Only half listening, Trevor suddenly blinked at how foolish she sounded. Surprised, he looked back at her. "Allison, you have two options. Go with the risk or move on. Simple as that..."  
She stepped closer. "Exactly. Take the risk. I mean, what if this guy's the one? I shouldn't let it slide, right? Going through the rest of my life not knowing. Regretting that I didn't speak up. What if this someone is the someone I'm meant to be with?"  
"Meant to be with..." Trevor's voice was a whisper, her words striking a chord in him, making him look across to Claire. "Then... let him know."  
Allison blinked. "Even if his eyes are already somewhere else?  
"Even if. You can't be afraid of how your heart feels. And telling him is the only way to know for sure..." His face changed, no longer as uncertain of him and Claire. "How could I have doubted that..."   
She sighed, grateful he seemed to agree. "But tell him how?"  
Trevor grinned. "Nudity usually works."  
She smiled back. "Actually I was hoping for something a little more subtle this time. Seems he's kind of stubborn," she teased.  
He laughed at that. "Subtle is only a another way to spell surrender."  
"Ok, Trevor. How should I approach this? Speaking from a man's point of view ,I mean."  
"Speaking from a man's point of view, men are easy, Allison. Doesn't have to be brilliant. Even POST-ITS would work. Depending on what parts of your body you post them on."  
Nodding, Allison blushed. "I'll gladly partake of your expert wisdom, Trevor. I could really use your opinion on this. For example... If I were to, oh I don't know, touch his arm--" Slowly she ran her fingers gently across his skin. "Would he finally get the hint?"  
"Touching's good..." Trevor didn't even react to her, gazing over at Claire instead. "Beats sitting alone. Especially when there's something you can do about it."  
Pulling her hand back, Allison had to turn from him reluctantly, called away as more people yelled out drink orders.   
Trevor was still watching Claire. He was suddenly struck by how beautiful she was to him, and how much he loved her, watching her as his fears continued to thaw.  
Suddenly it was as if she knew. As he watched her, Claire looked over at him at the bar, her eyes catching his and hanging on to them. She smiled at him as they looked at each other across that space, a warmth filling them. Trevor's eyes didn't leave her, smiling back.   
The band on stage continued to play loudly, and the lead singer's voice rang out over the bar. As Trevor watched Claire watching him, that warmth continue to fill him, and he listened to the music.  
  
_** She speaks no words, but know what she says  
just by looking into her eyes  
It's just a god given gift, that they instantly get  
just by looking into her eyes**_  
  
Trevor looked down at a pecan he was holding, uncracked in his hand. He closed his fist and cracked it open with little effort, looking at it with a pleased expression.  
"Maybe love isn't so hard to crack after all. People just let it get that way when they listen to their fears instead of their hearts."  
On stage the band continued to play loudly.  
  
_** You don't have to wait for her no longer  
You don't have to wait for her no more**_  
  
Out of nowhere Trevor smiled, happiness in his eyes, talking to himself. "I can't believe how stupid I've been..."  
Not paying attention, Allison couldn't hear what he said behind her as she handed out more drinks."Huh?"  
"Nothing." Trevor's eyes glittered with certainty. He looked at Claire as the band finished the song and the crowd filling the room applauded. Grabbing the bowl of pecans from on top of the bar, he stepped away.  
Allison still hadn't noticed, facing away from him. "I could really use your help with my problem, Trevor You're exactly what I want. A god of love. Even if it seems you're a god of love who's been distracted lately. No offense, but you used to breathe Cupid every second of every day. But recently, it seems I turn around and you're never--"  
Finished her with her orders, Allison turned hopefully around to face him, but she pulled up short when she realized Trevor was gone.  
"--there." she finished, her voice disappointed. Around her, more drink orders continued to pour in, and since she was now the only one behind the bar, she set about making them. Smiling brightly, she listened to an attractive man tell her what he needed her to make. But her smile was only on the surface, thinking of Trevor, deciding to clear it all up with him later.  
  
The room was a little quieter, except for the hum of the crowd. On stage, the lead singer of the band stepped up to the microphone again. Suddenly the music started up, and a slow rock ballad began to play, guitars strumming, drums beating slow, a song filled with longing as the lead singer began to sing.  
  
_** Last night I woke, lost scared and soaked in sweat  
I lay in bed, still falling from a rooftop**_  
  
Claire watched the band from her seat in the booth. Slowly her eyes slid to the quieting crowd as two by two they joined on the dance floor. People began to pair off under the dim lighting, as the music softened. Everyone slipped into someone else's arms, and they started gently swaying to the soft, romantic music.  
As the lush song grew louder, filling the room, Claire's eyes suddenly became sad, watching everyone else, feeling left out. She wrapped her arms around her body as she became highly aware that she was sitting by herself. Slowly, more of the lights continued to change overhead, shifting to softer hues, the air growing more romantic. Out of nowhere, a nearby light flared bright above, shining down on her sitting there alone, surprising her. She looked around, self conscious under it's revealing beam. Then suddenly a shadow stepped into the glow, outlined against it's light. Trevor was standing there beside her table, smiling gently down at her. Claire's face lit up when she saw him, a softness in their shared gazes, both happy he was there.  
Trevor playfully extended his arm to her, offering her a bowl.  
"Nuts?"  
Claire's smile widened, taking the bowl of pecans and setting them on her table. "Sometimes I wonder..." she answered.  
Trevor looked her over, noticing the same thing Jaclyn had noticed earlier about how she was dressed, clearly impressed. "Wow, Claire... Looks like someone just got booted from Club Skanky..."  
She gave him a wry look. "Gee, thanks Trevor."  
"No, that was actually a compliment. That outfit suddenly gives new meaning to America's Most Wanted. So tell me, Claire Allen. How is it that a hot, beautiful, accomplished semi famous couples therapist like yourself is sitting alone on a Friday night?"  
She smiled. "The gods can be cruel, I guess..."  
He nodded, his eyes sparkling. "Yes. Yes they can be... Absolutely. Especially when there's something that they don't like people doing. Then on the other hand... what do they know."  
Claire laughed to herself, her eyes lingering on his. The lush song still played behind them. Trevor turned and looked over at all the dancing couples. Then he turned back to her and offered her his empty hand, waiting.  
"So Claire Allen. Are we sitting this one out?"  
Surprised at the offer, Claire looked up at him, feeling a little uncertain. She looked over at all the people in the bar, all the people who would be watching them. But the more she thought about it, the more she didn't care. Her fears fell away, resolve settling onto her face, smiling up at him as she answered.  
"No, Trevor. We're not..."  
Carefully, she reached out, clutching his offered hand, wrapping it warmly in hers, holding tight and not letting go.  
The song grew louder. The lead singer belted out lyrics as the music swelled.  
  
_** Although there's light, redemption seems so distant.  
**_  
  
Claire rose up from her seat, standing. Her hand was still in Trevor's as she looked into his eyes. Trevor led her silently, past the tables, out of the forgotten periphery, past the seated spectators who weren't dancing, and out under the soft lights of the dance floor, the center of attention. Their steps were slow, subtle and unrushed as she followed, moving towards a spot in the center, all the while gently watching each other under the soft light. A thrill passed through Claire, holding Trevor's hand, surrounded by so many people. But for once, she didn't care, giving in to the feel of his hand touching hers, following him without question.  
They stopped together in the softly lit center of the floor, surrounded by the lush sounds flowing from the stage, and by the many couples swaying to the slow rock song, filling up the space. Except where Trevor and Claire were. They were in a space all their own.  
Trevor quickly took off his apron and tossed it away, not watching as it landed on the head of some unsuspecting patron. Turning back towards her, he offered her his arms.  
Claire paused, tilting her head. Exhaling softly, she gathered her courage and stepped. Quietly she moved forward, slipping into Trevor's tender embrace. They both joined easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world, pressing their bodies close, her arms sliding up onto his shoulders, his hand moving down to her hip, contacting, tender and pure. And before they knew what was happening, they had closed their eyes and they were moving, swaying to the lush music from the stage.  
  
_** Enchant me with the courage to believe  
won't you grant me, all the wisdom that I need...**_  
  
The room itself seemed to turn, filled with the song. Lights glowed down above them, shining softly as the music rose and swelled. Her cheek slowly nestled in next to Trevor's, her face over his shoulder. With a small contented smile, nothing else seemed to matter to her, everything else seeming to slide by on the periphery of the two of them together, lost to what they felt. Claire closed her eyes, relishing the feel of Trevor near. The air seemed alive, her skin almost tingling against it as his body touched hers, and the music flowed through her.  
Trevor whispered softly into her ear. "We haven't done this in awhile, Claire. Aren't you worried we'll be seen?"  
Still swaying in his careful embrace, Claire smiled again over his shoulder. "It's just a dance, Trevor. Totally innocent."  
His hand shifted slightly, pausingagain, resting softly on her hip. "Oh, of course... Did you know I honey glaze my tongue?"  
Claire pressed her body closer, ignoring the joke, unable to help it as she fell even deeper in to him. Her cheek gently grazed along his as they pressed softly together, touching. Electricity tingled through her, watching the room slowly orbit around them, before Claire closed her eyes, feeling Trevor near.  
Trevor sighed contently. "It's been sugested to me that maybe it would be better for us to go slow..."  
She smiled. "I just want to go fast..."  
The music paused for a moment, going quiet, before a single falling drum beat brought it back in even louder.  
  
_** I'm still trying to get  
Closer to who I am, who am I?**_  
  
Trevor sighed, not wanting to stop. "You're right, Claire. What could anyone say? Nothing wrong with a simple dance. And you're... definitely dancing with me again."  
Claire paused, pulling her face back to look tenderly into his eyes. Her voice was soft, absolutely certain, remembering the last time. "Trevor, I never stopped..."  
They shared a quiet gaze, the music flowing over them, drinking each other in, just the two of them as they held each other close. Realizing they were motionless in the middle of all the dancing couples, they started swaying again, her face nestling once more beside his.  
The crowded room seemed to circle vibrantly around them. They were alone in their own space, as everything else seemed to recede and fall away to spin slowly past behind them, the lights bright above, the background moving gently sideways in the distance, a blur of color and motion.  
Her face was touching his. His mouth hovered by her ear. And then in a soft voice, he began to sing to her under the music, where only she could hear him, a song just for her.  
"_My Claire-ee amore, lovely as a summer day,  
my Claire-ee amore, distant as the Milky Way..."_  
Claire stifled a laugh, her eyes sparkling, smiling as Trevor sung into her ear. He felt her shoulders laugh. But with a smile he continued to softly sing for her, whispering into her ear.  
"_My Claire-ee amore', pretty little girl that I adore,  
you're the only girl my heart beats for,  
how I wish that you were mine..."_  
Separated, isolated in their own private space, Trevor and Claire continued to sway in the middle of the crowded dance floor at Taggerty's, as above the lights slowly changed colors. The music continued to play from the band on stage, lush and full, coming to a final crescendo.  
  
_** And grant me,all the wisdom that I need  
and enchant me, with the courage to be free  
  
to be free...**_  
  
The entire scene seemed to exude contentment, all the dancing couples swaying with Trevor and Claire in the center, Then the room began to slowly to fall back and grow more distant. Gently the music and the lights softly faded away to nothing, as outside a soft, beautiful moon glowed down on everything from a serene sky.  
  
Dr Frechette and Faith were in session again, closed off from the outside world, shut away inside his office.  
The balding man looked down, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he tried to hide the frustration he was feeling. Outwardly, he made an effort to keep his face as unconcerned as possible. But the truth was he felt exhausted. Exhausted from this session, and all his fruitless questioning of Faith. It had been a long day, and he had gotten nowhere.  
For her part, Faith merely remained silent. She was sitting in a chair before his desk, looking small and uncompromising. She glared at Dr. Frechette with the same cold stare she had offered him since the first day they had started these sessions. But she maintained one seemingly nervous mannerism. Faith would occasionally rub the freshly scrubbed and washed patch of pale skin where she had consistently written Trevor's name inside a heart on her arm, like she always did. But now, the orderlies made certain to wash it off before bringing her every time, per Dr. Frechette's orders. But to her, it was always there, regardless of what anyone else did.  
Beyond that, Faith remained simply defiant to the older man's questions. Hour after hour, session after session, she had seemed like a stone under a barrage of cold rain, unchanged and resolute, as if no time had passed at all.  
Frechette exhaled, looking up into her implacable expression. Considering how little progress he had made, he could almost believe that time had stopped. He dropped his gaze down to the paltry accumulation of notes he had written so far. He had learned a little, had suspicions about more, but not nearly enough for anything approaching a breakthrough. In some ways, it was because Faith was too aware of what he was trying as he and his questions searched for various avenues through her defenses. He knew that Faith saw them too, judging his intent, closing each angle he attempted. It had resulted in an endless deadlock. But that still hadn't stopped Dr. Frechette from having his suspicions about where the root cause of her condition lay. Trevor represented something to her beyond the god of love. He knew it. So he constantly used those suspicions, chipping away at her stony exterior, trying to break down her armor by pushing various ever changing theories forward as they switched and rotated through his mind.  
Frechette's face was just as hard as hers when he watched her. She was glaring at him again. He started into yet another new approach. "Mary..."  
"Don't call me that."  
Frechette blinked. Her voice had almost sounded bitter for a moment. "So. It seems you do still have the ability to speak. And I was beginning to wonder... Why shouldn't I call you Mary? It is your name, isn't it?"  
"My name's Faith."  
"Don't you like the name Mary anymore?"  
"You think that by calling me that all the time, I'll slip and forget my real name."  
"Mary is your real name..."  
There was another silence in the room. Frechette's cold eyes searched her expression, looking for some weakness. "Did someone who called you Mary hurt you? Is that why you're afraid to hear it?"  
"My name's Faith..." She answered, seeming to lock onto what she was saying, continuing almost by rote, as if it were ingrained into her, like some sort of mantra. "It's what I believe. It's who I am."  
His eyes continued to drill into hers, neither of them flinching. "Interesting, Mary. I've been meaning to get back to the subject of your father again. You've refused to discuss him.... He called you Mary, didn't he?"  
Faith said nothing, her face simply going blank, looking away.  
Frechette recognized that look, realizing he would get nothing further from her on that specific subject. But he made sure to store her response away in his mind, saving it for later and leaving the subject open for now.  
"Your name's Mary. Not Faith." He stated it simply, looking down as he wrote some notes.  
"He said that too..."  
Frechette paused, not expecting a response. "Who?"  
Now she seemed to be the one speaking matter of factly. "The man who was my doctor before. And the woman before that. But now they're all gone. And I'm still Faith..."  
She couldn't help but keep a tiny look of smugness from her face.  
Frechette sighed, deciding it was pointless to push her further on it. "Let's get back to our discussion of Mr. Hale. You were telling me before that his life, his earthly existence, was at a crossroads. What did you mean by that?"  
For a moment Faith's eyes seemed to brighten, a little more eager. Frechette had found that Trevor was the one subject she was readily willing to talk about, which was why Frechette had chosen it.  
She leaned forward. "He is at a crossroads. Because he's in love. Always has been. With her..."  
Frechette watched her carefully, chin resting in his hand, intrigued but deciding to say nothing, instead deciding to let her continue.  
Faith was looking up at the ceiling slightly, a smile of knowing on her face as if she were picturing it right there. "See... After all this time, they finally admitted it to each other. Opened up to what they both felt. They finally gave in to it, but not completely. And it's only now that they're starting to figure out that it's not going to be that easy, when they thought it would be. They thought, just admit their feelings, share a kiss here and there, and all those fears they've always hidden would just melt away. They didn't realize that getting closer would only make those fears stronger."  
Frechette's brow furrowed, trying to follow. "Who? Who is Trevor in love with?"  
"Claire Allen." Faith blinked at him, as if it were obvious. "Didn't you know?"  
At the mention of Claire's name, an eager look came into Frechette's eyes. He hadn't expected this, but he found himself intrigued. Leaning forward, he did his best to restrain his enthusiasm, waiting. "So you're still asserting that Trevor and Claire are romantically involved."  
Her gaze didn't falter in the slightest, full of conviction. "They are. They're just keeping it a secret from everybody."  
"Mary, that's--" He paused, surprised. "You've been in protective custody for nearly half a year. Isolated from Trevor, and Claire, and almost anyone else outside the hospital for that matter. Isolated for a long time. How could you possible know anything that's happening outside these walls between them?"  
There was a pride in her voice. "The gods told me. It only happened a few weeks ago. During the blackout."  
Frechette blinked, staring at her. It amazed him how she didn't seem to have any doubts about it at all. For a moment, he wondered if she could help him instead of the other way around. He had been looking for some slip, some mistake where Claire and Trevor were involved, so he could take over Trevor's case, and fix what Claire couldn't. But he pushed that hope aside for now. "Even if it were true, what do any of these suspicions have to do with you?"  
"It's the center. Trevor and Claire's relationship is the key to the whole thing. It's why this path has been set before me."  
Frechette's brow wrinkled, intrigued by her words and wondering again of it could really be true, and if there were any way he could prove it. As for her, he could see how central Trevor and Claire had become to her delusion, how fixated she seemed on them. "Mary, why are you so obsessed with Trevor and Claire?"  
The tiniest smile flashed onto her face, seeing right through his eagerness. "Why are you?"  
Frechette almost had to chuckle at her insight. Leaning back, he was now somewhat duly impressed. "You do realize you've made these claims against Trevor and Dr. Allen before. No one even believes them anymore."  
She wasn't shaken in the slightest. "They will... In time..."  
Frechette nodded, starting to write again as he continued.  
"So you feel that Trevor Hale is your life long mission. The purpose that finally justifies your existence. Yet this man you worship, is the same man you shot. He's supposed to bring love into the world. So how is it you put a bullet in his chest."  
"He needed to believe. Still does..."  
Frechette smiled to himself. He leaned back as if it were simply a casual thought. "I just find it interesting. You claim you're name is Faith, and that your 'faith' is the undying worship of the god of love. Yet you shot the god of love. Were you lying to yourself? Or simply trying to cover something up you didn't want to confront. For instance... Did your father, love you Mary?"  
Her body seemed to tense, but she said nothing.  
Without a concern, Frechette pressed ruthlessly on. "I assume he loved you very much. This person, who is supposed to care for you, give you love. But who I know nothing about, because you refuse to discuss him. Has Cupid symbolically replaced your father? Did your father... hurt you, Mary?"  
"My fath-" Her eyes almost seemed to moisten, but her face became completely empty, hollow, as if some part of her had fallen into herself. "My father only loved me. SO he told me."  
Staring at her without feeling, Frechette didn't stop. "And yet now it seems you're trying to destroy love. Why. Condemnation? Absolution? Both?"  
The room was silent for a moment.  
Her voice was soft, but there was a new steel in her eyes. "I told you. I'm not trying to destroy love. I'm trying to save it."  
"But you did shoot Mr. Hale--"  
"Because there's still a chance for him!" She interrupted him loudly, sounding desperate as moisture glistened in her eyes. "There's still a chance for him to be saved! Don't you see it?"  
  
Faith's voice seemed to continue, loud and clear but disembodied over a fountain spraying up into a bright blue afternoonsky, surrounded by the green of a park. Trevor and Claire were walking towards each other, like they did nearly everyday when she got off work, for all appearances as if by chance, as if not noticing each other. Faith's words seemed to speak over the noiseless scene.  
  
"Trevor's love for her, for this finite woman, will only cause him pain..."  
  
As they moved closer, Trevor smiled at Claire, happy merely to see her after a long day. She returned the look, not slowing in her steps as they shared a warm, lingering glance, like two strangers. They didn't speak, giving nothing away. But as they passed each other, her fingers at her side brushed across his for one fleeting moment as they continued on, neither of them stopping. They went on their separate ways invigorated by that brief touch, but not saying anything. Then Trevor stopped on the sidewalk, turning to watch her leave. Smiling, Claire didn't look back, feeling his eyes behind her on certain parts.  
He watched until she was gone, smiling as the warmth of the encounter still filled him with certainty. His earlier doubts at the bar last night were forgotten, as he bathed in the bright sunshine.  
Faith's disembodied voice continued.  
  
"Throughout history, it's only been through a god's attachment to some mortal that he learned true suffering..."  
  
Alone now, Trevor was happy beyond belief. The path seemed clear now. He loved Claire. That was all that mattered. Leaning his head back, he smiled into the sun, drinking in the light and warmth from the gorgeous blue sky above him. How could he have ever doubted love. How could he have ever doubted his heart?  
Standing in one spot, Trevor stretched each arm straight out, his feet set together with his head tilted towards the sky as if hanging there, held on the air itself, enjoying the moment, accepting the sacrifices. He started to turn slowly, the greenery of the park spinning dizzyingly around him under the bright blue, like when he had danced with her last night. His smiling face drank in the clean air, swimming in the colors and light as he spun, reveling in his feelings for Claire.  
There was still no sound, only Faith's voice.  
  
"Cupid needs me to save him. The gods want me to save him..."  
  
Back in his office, for the first time there was a tinge of sadness in Dr. Frechette's eyes as he listened to her, sensing the deep well of pain she was hiding. A well she was lost in, perhaps forever. His voice was soft for the first time.  
"But... what if none that is true. What if there are no gods. Just people. Trying to make their way, however they can. Just like you and me in this office right now. People. You're still in here with me, Faith. Locked away, prevented from any contact with Trevor Hale, and certainly not in any position to save him. If he's your eternally ordained mission... how is it that the gods have allowed that?"  
Faith looked at him, completely surprised at what he had just said a moment earlier. He had called her Faith. For the first time, he had called her Faith instead of Mary, letting himself slip it out, and not even knowing it.  
Her expression seemed to strengthen, growing more certain. But she decided not to point it out to him, keeping that slip up as a small victory for herself. Her eyes seemed to shine reverently, filled with her conviction and her certainty that this was what she was meant for.  
"I'm still in here with you, Dr. Frechette, because Trevor hasn't taken the final step. He hasn't given in fully, broken the decree of the gods... It's not my time yet, But my time is coming. I feel it..."  
Concern flashed across Frechette's eyes. Out of nowhere there seemed to be a sudden coldness in the room. As he thought about her ominous words, his own words were more cautious now, speaking softly.  
"Are you going to save Trevor Hale by killing him?"  
A smile spread slowly across her face at the suggestion. For a moment, Frechette suddenly felt afraid of her, swallowing.  
Her words were assured, a brightness in her gaze.  
"I'm going to save Trevor by sending him home..."  
  


------  


. 


	3. perigee pg 03

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Claire was stepping along a sidewalk the next morning, walking to work. Her smile seemed even brighter today than the morning sun shining directly into her face. There was a happiness in her eyes, her slow gait calm, introspective. The dawn felt clear and crisp, slightly cool against her skin as her steps moved her forward, her body free and her heart content.  
Suddenly Trevor was there, falling into step by her side like he had so many times before, easily, like it was an old habit. Claire smiled over at him, happy he was there. She had long ago stopped wondering how he always managed to find her, no matter where she was. And now, looking over at him again by her side, she didn't care. As they walked together, she decided to tease him good naturedly.  
"Oh look... It's morning. The sun's up. And now I have my own personal coo-coo clock with me."  
He nodded with a grin. "Morning to you too, Claire. Thought I'd try something completely different for once and walk with you to work."  
"Oooh, that is a new one, Trevor."  
"Hey, gotta be me. And may I say, I love that thing around your neck today. It's a great look."  
She looked down, her hand touching a simple silver chain resting on her soft skin. "What, my necklace?"  
"No, your body. Love that particular accessory. And on the subject of loving your body. I was thinking about us... and finding that romantic moment."  
Claire chuckled when she heard him, because he couldn't hide that heated eagerness in his tone. "Hmm. Mr. Romance strikes again. Or should I say, strikes out."  
He looked over at her with a smile, the morning sunlight golden on their faces. "Hey. Overwhelming sexual magnetism to the contrary, I can be romantic, you know. I'm not all about some eventual sweaty bump and grind."  
_Bump and grind..._ When he calmly said that, Claire felt her skin flush from the subject matter, feeling it warm against the cool air as she thought about them together, deciding to tease him along. "Seeking useful suggestions from a man who thinks he's a god? Not typically very encouraging. Or from a man who's more universally recognized as, Trevor Hale, Patron Saint of 'Huh?'. So tell me, Trevor. What romantic musings actually managed to survive the crush of your libido."  
"Hey, I'm Cupid. I muse a lot."  
She laughed. "Trevor, as a delusional outpatient bartender with no powers for years, you do realize that the term 'Cupid' is only a titular designation by this point."  
"Titular? And here I thought you already had that covered nicely. I wish you had it covered less nicely, but that's just probably me."  
"Ahh... More romance. So tell me something romantic for the two of us, Trevor."  
He sighed eagerly. "Well, it's been said that you haven't lived until you've had a god of love drink wine off the small of your back."  
Trevor suddenly gave her a definite look, as if imagining that in his mind. Blushing even more now, Claire smiled into the sunrise while Trevor continued.  
"No, really. I'm totally serious about the wine thing. We could mug a wino or something. What do you say? I'll put it all together. Set the mood, get the groove on... Just the two of us. Wine, candles, rose petals.... wonder woman outfit."  
She chuckled. "I am not wearing a wonder woman outfit."  
"Who said anything about you? And why not! You definitely wouldn't be wearing it for long. Talk about sexually repressed..."  
She looked at him, amused. "I am not sexually repressed, Trevor. You'll find that out soon enough..."  
"Hey, soon enough was a couple of years back, Claire. And yes. You are."  
He gave her an appreciative once over, teasing. "You are always so white bread instead of white hot! You're probably so uptight under the sheets that I bet your favorite night time reading material is Jane Austen's Enema."  
Claire walked even a little closer beside him, enjoying the game. "Trevor, I... I want to be with you just as... just as..." she said, pausing.  
As they walked, they both looked at each other for a moment, sensing the other's willingness, the other's deep eagerness, feeling the need and desire between them. And for that moment, the air seemed to tingle between them, their bodies very much aware of each other.  
Trevor stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face her. "Ok. Let's see you prove how free you are, Claire. Say... nipple."  
She looked around, but they were alone on the sidewalk, the morning light flowing sideways onto them. "I will not, Trevor."  
"I knew it."  
She was blushing even more now. "I just don't see how--"  
"Then say it."  
"Trevor, I'm not--"  
"-- going to say it." He looked at her. "I know you're not. I bet you don't even like hearing it."  
He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "_Nipple_."  
The breathy tone in his voice sent a thrill coursing through her. But she held her ground, protesting. "Trevor--"  
"Nipple."  
She shook her head. "I'm--"  
"Nipple, nipple, nipple!" he shouted loudly.  
With a smile, Claire covered her ears as he yelled out, glancing around and hoping no one else had heard him. Her eyes twinkled, looking at him tenderly. "Okay. Fine. I'll say it. Nipple... There, are you happy?"  
Trevor stared blankly at her for a long moment, before his eyes suddenly glazed over, releasing a satisfied groan. "Does anyone else feel like lighting a cigarette?"  
Grinning, Claire started to walk again. Trevor automatically stayed by her side again, keeping up with her.  
"Regardless, Trevor. It's a myth. The truth is women are just as voracious about wanting sex as men are. To say that they aren't is just a misguided stereotype, And no one likes stereotypes."  
He nodded, thinking as he squinted into the sunrise while it climbed higher before them. "Except maybe stereos..."  
Claire looked over as they walked. "Yeah, but they all usually just make a bee line to the biggest pair of speakers in the room."  
"Claire, all I'm saying is that we both know we're right for each other. We fit together. So why haven't we... fitted together. Come on!" He spoke with enthusiasm, waving his arms. "Claire you're the yin to my yang a lamma ding dong! The sun to my sky, the 'g' to my string! And nothing's happened yet! I just think you should be kissed and often. By someone who knows how."  
"Why Brett," she teased him.  
"So to get you in the mood Claire, I had this coupon printed up. Nothing ever says romance like coupons. See, it's all professionally done, totally legit." He handed her a fancy looking card.  
Taking it, she looked down at it with him, confused as she read. "Hmm. _'This card grants the bearer one free duck'_?"  
He blinked. "What? Wait.. That's a typo."  
He took it back, rubbing at the letter.  
Claire smirked. "And people have the nerve to claim that romance isn't an exact science..."  
He was suddenly serious. "Come on, Claire. We're right for each other. You know we're right...."  
She was suddenly smiling as they moved side by side. After a moment she spoke. "We are right, Trevor. Still doesn't mean we won't get caught."  
"We won't get caught."  
"We won't?"  
"We won't."  
"Oh really.. And how--... how are we--.. going to do that." Pausing several times, an uncomfortable look came across Claire's face as she walked and realized something was wrong with her shoe. A strap had slipped, so she stopped again on the sidewalk and bent forward, lifting her knee to adjust it, her skirt slipping inadvertently up her thigh slightly, bending a shapely leg, making all kinds of delicate curves.  
Walking slowly beside her, Trevor suddenly noticed, transfixed by the image. His voice sounded distracted. "We... we won't get caught. It's all about...spatial awareness..."  
Suddenly Trevor walked straight into a street sign he hadn't seen, stopping and looking embarrassed that he hadn't been watching where he was going.  
Behind him, Claire hadn't noticed as she finished, straightening up and starting to walk again. Trying to shake off the impact of the sign pole, Trevor kept pace with her.  
"Claire, what's stopping us..."  
She suddenly paused in her steps, looking ahead into the dawn, and she thought about it. Her face grew softer in the morning light, and she then turned to smile gently at him, pushing a strand of dark hair from her forehead in a slow, delicate motion. Her eyes were tender, her voice soft. "Nothing's stopping us anymore, Trevor."  
She gazed at him, her implication absolutely clear.  
Trevor looked back at her, a feeling of wonder in his gaze. Underneath him, he tried to keep his knees from going numb when he saw the sensual warmth in her eyes.  
Claire felt her own skin blush as well, looking at him pointedly. She exhaled slowly, the moment brimming with anticipation, and they both turned and started to walk again, silent and side by side.  
"So... tonight?" he asked carefully.  
She looked at him, smiling slightly as she did. "Tonight."  
They both gazed at each other for a long time as they stopped there, enjoying that feeling between them.  
"Great, Claire. This will be great. We love each other. I just want you to know that this isn't some frivolous fling for me. I'm in this for the long haul..." His voice was soft. "I love you, Claire..."  
She nodded, eyes tender. "I love you too, Trevor..."  
Cautiously, they started walking again in silence, smiles on their faces, still warmed by what they had just agreed to.  
"This is good, Claire. This is great. We should do this. We should be together. So what if you're a mortal and I'm a god. We love each other and that's all that counts. No drawbacks to that. Total win-win. Everything to gain, and nothing to--"  
"Trevor--"  
Claire stepped out into the street intersection before them, turning back towards Trevor for a moment with a smile. Suddenly there was a loud screaming of tires, and a wide instant fear in Claire's eyes. She looked over at the car barreling down at her, rubber squealing, trying to stop. Trevor darted forward, grabbing at her arm, pulling at her as his heart started frantically pumping with a desperate fear--  
But before he could pull her off the street, the car's front bumper screeched to a halt less than an inch from Claire's hemline as her body twitched once in shock, startled as the front end of the vehicle dipped then rose, barely stopping in time. The driver honked angrily, the noise loud against their frightened and on edge senses. Trevor and Claire stood numb before the car.  
Trevor finally remembered to breathe again, Claire doing the same beside him. Looking down, he saw his hands on Claire's arm, before looking over at the car and realizing that if the car hadn't stopped, he wouldn't have been in time to pull her away. Trying their best to shake the incident off, they both moved back onto the sidewalk.  
"Thanks, Trevor." She said softly, inhaling. "I think my shoe strap slipped again..."  
"No problem..." Trevor replied absently as cars sped past them on the street. He seemed lost in thought, considering something. Behind him, Claire straightened her skirt and fixed her shoe, before stepping up to the curb again. This time she looked both ways down the street, waiting until she was positive there was a clearing in the busy traffic, before she started across again.  
Trevor was still staring blankly ahead, thinking. But when he saw that Claire was already several steps ahead of him, he smiled again, following her and pushing the incident away.  
  
Indoors now, Claire was still smiling as she walked through her building towards her office. She was preoccupied again, thinking of tonight with Trevor, of finally being with him, feeling how right it felt as she let go of all the fears that had held them back. The thought of tonight was still putting a warmth in her body and her heart.  
In the hallway several yards behind, Trevor had followed her into the building, eager to catch up to her. Slowly he drew closer, dodging people in the crowded hallway, almost to her again, when suddenly Dr. Greeley was there. Trevor veered off as Dr. Greeley fell into step beside Claire in the busy ground floor hallway, having spotted her. Trevor followed discreetly behind them, listening and trying not to be noticed.  
"Good morning, Dr. Allen..." the older man offered with a smile.  
"Dr. Greeley. Hello. Good morning."  
Greeley pulled some files he was carrying closer in to himself, concentrating instead on speaking with Claire as the busy hallway seemed to slid past all around them. Behind, Trevor darted back and forth as if alternately occupied by some poster or stray potted plant, before occasionally sprinting to catch up again, trying not to be seen as he listened in.  
"Claire..." Dr. Greeley began. "I'm glad I ran into you. There's something I feel I need to tell you."  
"Really? What about?"  
"Well..." The older man blinked, looking over at her. "It's about Ian Frechette. I just came from a meeting of the hospital board he called early this morning."  
"Concerning?"  
"Concerning you and Mr. Hale."  
Claire tried to keep her face calm, eyes looking simply ahead as they walked. Behind them, Trevor listened carefully, picking up some papers from an office inbox slot and pretending to flip through them as he followed, a concerned expression on his face.  
Greeley tried to explain. "Frechette's pushing again, Claire. Pushing harder than he ever has before. He's still trying to have Mr. Hale's treatment transferred to him. And now that he's on the board, he has a forum. And he's starting to gain support from several of the other members. Despite my attempts to stop him."  
"Well..." Claire swallowed. "Dr. Frechette has always wanted Trevor to be his next pharmaceutical miracle. You know Ian. With him where there's a pill there's a way."  
"No, it's different now."  
Claire blinked. "What, has he offered the members a share of his wonder drug profits now?"  
"He claims there are 'irregularities' in your dealings with Trevor."  
She turned to face Greeley, stopping them in the hall. Behind them, Trevor was forced to pull up short, lifting the files he had stolen higher to hide behind them.  
"What kind of irregularities?" Claire asked.  
Greeley was all seriousness. "He didn't elaborate, Claire. Just vague rumors. He offered no real proof. But something was different. I could sense it. He think's he's on to something, I know it. I have no idea what, but he wouldn't be pushing so hard and risking his reputation if he didn't."  
Claire lowered her eyes. Trevor watched them over the top of the papers he held.  
Concerned, Greeley stepped closer when he saw her reaction. "Claire, I sympathize. I really do. I know it's been rough with him on the board, second guessing you, nipping at your work..."  
Claire looked over at him, a little worried, but with a new strength in her gaze as she smiled. "I know. It has been hard. But I can handle it. I'm not afraid of Frechette. He's a quack."  
Greeley chuckled. "Yes, but a quack with influence, Claire. I just wanted to give you the heads up about what's happening on the board. And to tell you to be extra careful..."  
"OK. Thanks. I will..."  
Greeley gave her a long look before walking away, leaving Claire standing there in the hallway as people passed all around them. As he moved closer, Trevor tried to hide behind the papers.  
"Morning, Trevor..." Greeley said without glancing his way, not stopping.  
Trevor didn't show his face. "Morning, Dr. Greeley."  
Once he was gone, Trevor casually handed the files he held to a random passer by, before stepping quickly up to Claire's side, having heard the conversation.  
He lowered his voice. "What was that all about, Claire?"  
"It was nothing, Trevor..."  
Concern flashed in Trevor's eyes. "Do you think Frechette knows about us?"  
"He doesn't know anything at all. Believe me. I've seen his work..." She smiled at the insult, before starting to walk again.  
Trevor stayed by her side down the hallway. "This really doesn't put a doubt in your mind about us, does it?"  
She smiled again, looking ahead. "No it doesn't, Trevor."  
He looked at her, amazed at the change in her. "Wow. I'm surprised, Claire. What brought this about?"  
"You..." She gazed over at him, her eyes soft. "I'm not letting anything or anyone scare you away from me again, Trevor. Not idiot doctors, not mythical gods. Nothing. Because as a good friend pointed out to me, you shouldn't squander the second chances you're given in your life."  
Claire smiled at him, unconcerned as she moved away. Trevor paused, watching her step ahead of him, admiring the certainty in her voice, before following her towards the elevators.  
  
A few floors up, Trevor and Claire turned the corner together on the final stretch to her office at the end of the hallway. For some reason, he was definitely making sure to stay with her, and that caused Claire to look over at him, her brow wrinkling with curiosity.  
"Trevor, why are you following along at my heels like some lost puppy?"  
"Umm... No reason." There was an unexplained eagerness twinkling in his eyes that he couldn't hide, even as he tried to look innocent. "Maybe I... just want you to pet my... head, and scratch my tummy."  
She smiled, looking away. "Oh wait until tonight, Trevor..."  
Beside her, Trevor stumbled slightly when she said that, before correcting himself as they kept walking.  
The reception desk at the end of the hallway slid closer, the morning light bright in the window beyond it. As they both approached, Trevor looked over at Claire expectantly as her steps slowed in surprise.  
Her office door was shut and Jaclyn hadn't come in for work yet, so there was no one at the desk. But sitting there on it, centered on the reception desk's forward edge was a tall, blooming red rose resting in a slender silver vase. It was one of the most beautiful roses Claire had ever seen, full and vibrant crimson, almost glowing with it's own deep rich red color. It's delicate petals glittered with small spots of what seemed like dew as the sunlight from the window behind the desk streamed past it in golden rays.  
Slowly stepping up to it, Claire smiled quietly. Behind her, Trevor hung back a little, watching her as she looked at his gift. The vase had a simple white card tied with a slim ribbon around it which read _ The flower is the leaf mad with love.._  
"Trevor..."  
He smiled. "Sometimes the old classics are the best."  
"It's beautiful..." She leaned forward, her form outlined in the morning light as it beamed down past her. Gently she inhaled the delicate scent from the lush flower.  
"It is beautiful. Very beautiful... but I think the rose ain't bad either." Trevor said, before he moved around behind the desk to face her, the rose between them in the bright morning rays. "So... We're still on for tonight?"  
Claire smiled, looking at him in that golden light, in agreement. "Tonight..."  
"Great..." Trevor's face was beaming, looking at her tenderly. Then his gaze shifted past her shoulder to the hallway behind her and his eyes widened. He quickly moved around the side of the desk, walking over to the person approaching behind her, making Claire turn around.  
Dr. Frechette was approaching down the hallway. He had a perpetually dour look on his face as playfully Trevor ran straight up to him, forcing him to stop. When Trevor spoke, he had a mischievous glint in his eye, deciding to tease him.  
"Hey Look! It's Dr. Free--"  
Dr. Frechette interrupted him with a raised finger and a glare. "Don't. For the last time, Mr. Hale. My name is pronounced 'Frechette'. Not Free and--" he stopped himself. "--and the way you pronounce it."  
Turning, Trevor looked back at Claire as she watched them. "Look, Claire. Sir lacks a lot is here."  
Trevor noticed Frechette's face grow harder beside him, before responding to it.  
"Oh... Sorry. Touchy subject. Amazing how a nickname like that can just spread around a hospital. I'm sure it's just a rumor. Probably more about your personality than any physical ... shortcomings. All my fault. Never should have started it. Anyway, while you're here let me apologize too for that stripper service ad I placed in the paper under your home number. Hey, honest mistake, right? You're just that damn sexy. I'll admit, I sort of hoped the add would help you get out of the house more... but nothing works all the time."  
Frechette glared at him, paying no attention to what Trevor had just said. His aloof face seemed carved in stone, yet he suddenly looked curious. "Mr. Hale... And why are you at Claire's office so early in the morning Mr. Hale?"  
Trevor tried to look serious in response for a moment, before he smiled again and exhaled. "Ok. You caught us. Claire and I have been working on something of monumental importance. One of life's great mysteries. Exactly why _was_ Old Smokey covered in cheese?"  
With a glare Frechette stepped past him and up to Claire, where she was leaning back against the reception desk, waiting for him with her arms crossed, the rose behind her.  
"Dr. Allen."  
"Dr. Frechette."  
Both of them didn't quite manage to conceal the contempt in their voices.  
Frechette was carrying a file with him which he opened. "Dr. Allen, it is my understanding from Dr. Dehnt's records that you collaborated with him on the Mary Simmons case. That is before you collaborated with him on a more personal level... Did he share any of her case file work with you?"  
"Yes. He did." Claire wasn't being overly helpful.  
Frechette blinked. "Do you still have them?"  
"Somewhere I suppose..."  
He glared at her. "I would like all files, notes, or conclusions you have on the Simmons case transferred to my office."  
"Hit a wall already?" Claire smiled sweetly.  
"I want the material, Dr. Allen, so I can incorporate it into my own approach."  
"Your approach? Don't you mean chemically drugged into low earth orbit? Doctor, when I think about your approach, the first thought that comes to my mind is 'Oh look, Huey Lewis just served me fries...' Your approach is barbaric. Outdated...."  
Anger glistened in his eyes, but his voice was level. "I'll take the files without the editorial, Dr. Allen."  
Nodding, Claire kept her arms crossed, not backing down. "So I gather you haven't lobotomized her mind away to nothing with pharmaceuticals yet."  
He looked at her. "No. I have not. But that isn't your concern. What IS your concern, is that you do what one of your direct superiors has directed you to do."  
There was a coldness in Claire's eyes as she glared at him. "Oh, I know all about what your trying to direct me to do on the board, Ian."  
He smiled wickedly. "Oh? What's that Ms. Allen..."  
"You still want Trevor's case transferred to you so you can make him the latest guinea pig for your own personal pill patrol. Well, you're wasting your time. You can't have him." Her eyes were bright, glancing at Trevor over Frechette's shoulder for a moment. "He's mine."  
Behind Frechette, Trevor slowly smiled at the certainty of Claire's words.  
Unconcerned, Frechette smiled in a different context. "For the moment only, Dr. Allen..."  
Claire didn't budge, not looking away.  
Suddenly Frechette's attention shifted over towards the rose on the reception desk behind her, still upright in it's vase. Slowly he walked up to it, frowning as he lifted the card dispassionately and read it.  
"Did someone send you a flower, Dr. Allen?" He asked innocently.  
Loathing that he was standing so near to her, Claire's voice remained certain. "Secret admirer."  
"Well..." Frechette looked straight back at Trevor for a long moment, before turning back to Claire. "There are all sorts of secrets, it seems..."  
Claire didn't reply.  
"I'll expect those files in my office by the end of the day, Dr. Allen."  
Claire still decided to say nothing. Frechette walked away, barreling towards Trevor as if he couldn't be bothered to see that Trevor was even there. Trevor had to quickly step out of the way to avoid being run down. He looked annoyed as he watched Frechette leave, yelling out as Frechette moved further down the hallway.  
"Hey, did you know Solvent Green is people? People! Shine on you crazy diamond!" Trevor thrust a fist into the air in mock solidarity. And then Frechette was gone as he disappeared around the corner. Claire finally exhaled behind Trevor, no longer looking as steadfast as she had been.  
Nodding, Trevor walked back up to her. "You know, I'm starting to think that him and cute don't mix."  
Claire blew out a breath as she looked over at her rose, her fingers gently touching it in the morning light. "That was close, Trevor. Thank god you didn't sign this. I'm just glad that for once you decided not to go overboard with something." she said with a smile.  
Suddenly Trevor seemed nervous for some reason. "Umm, yeah... Hey, you know me. King of low key."  
Claire noticed his reaction. "Trevor, what is it?"  
"Nothing... Look, Just... just remembered... There must be somewhere else I need to be right now. Bye Claire."  
He left her at the desk and escaped as quickly as he could. Claire's brow furrowed as he disappeared around the bend of the hallway, wondering what had gotten into him. She turned back to the rose, smiling again as she admired it. It really was the most beautiful rose she had ever seen, never having seen another like it.  
"Well, no harm done I guess. It's just a rose. Nothing gossip worthy. Wonder why Trevor left so quickly though..."  
She picked up the slender silver metal vase, smelling the rose, deciding to keep it in her office. Moving to her locked office door, Claire pulled out her keys, ready to begin her day. Once she unlocked it, she pushed the door open, looking inside, before her jaw dropped.  
"Oh my god..."  
The inside of her office was buried in a swarm of red, brimming and filled with roses, each identical and as beautiful as the one she was holding, a wash of delicate crimson, covering every surface. Claire stood there motionless, as the keys dropped from her stunned hand.  
  
Frechette was in another session with Faith later on that same day.  
He sat quietly in his office, his mind working over what Faith had just calmly told him. She had given him a long and non-breaking narrative of minutiae and detail on Trevor and Claire's purported life together. Full of details that she should have no way of knowing anything about, but for which Faith seemed absolutely certain. Frechette looked down at the copious notes he had just taken, amazed by the total ease of her narrative, as if every part of it was burned with absolute clarity into her mind.  
Pausing, the balding doctor searched for words, his brow wrinkled as he tried futilely to take it all in. "Amazing, Faith... That's quite impressive. You know all this from memory? How? Are you certain you've had no contact with them at all? How do you know this? Mary... do you have someone following them outside the hospital?"  
Faith sighed, sounding tired by his words, and a little annoyed that he still didn't see. "I don't need someone following them. Ask around. I never leave lock down. I have no visitors, I receive no phone calls. I thought I already explained this to you. I know what I know because the gods tell me. They're preparing me for what I'm destined to do. And when the time is right, and Trevor has crossed the point of no return, I'll be the gods messenger. Their executioner. I'll be Trevor's final salvation. His savior... Like he will be for me."  
Frechette blinked at her fanatical words, trying to wrap his mind around the twisted ramblings of Faith's elusive delusion, feeling like he was helpless, wandering, lost in a fog that grew thicker with each session.  
His gaze shifted to dialogue, dialogue Faith insisted Trevor and Claire would say to each other at some point, but for which he could never prove. Almost like everything that was happening was preordained. He looked at some of the things Claire 'would' say. _ Will it always be like this? Sneaking off, stealing moments... _ And another one Faith claimed Claire would say. _Trevor, with you... I'm finally living._ Frechette's mind poured over the words. They were too fragmentary. There was no context. He had no idea what to do with information like this.  
Suddenly the phone on his desk rang, and he reached over and picked it up.  
"Dr. Frechette..." he answered simply.  
Faith leaned back against her chair and waited.  
Someone was talking to Dr. Frechette on the other end of the phone line. His face went calm as he listened, looking over at the sleek LED clock glowing red in a black face, built into a spotless silver frame, resting on a nearby shelf. He had lost track of time during Faith's narrative. Frechette didn't look over at her, instead seeming to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone, answering back to it every few moments.  
"Really... That's good to hear... So it's ready now?... Ok. I'll be right there..."  
Frechette hung up the phone, looking down at his desk, distracted as he thought about something. He made sure not to look at her. For her part, Faith simply sat silent across from him, not reacting to what he was doing at all. Instead, her eyes slowly slid past his shoulder, to the wide window behind him, watching the bright, inviting vista of the world outside the hospital, glowing under the sun as the morning started to burn away into mid-day.  
Frechette exhaled quietly, acting almost a little embarrassed at what he had to do, before he stood up from his chair and straightened his tie. When he spoke, he still wasn't looking at her. "Mary... Something unexpected has come up that I have to attend to. I'll have to step out of the office for a few minutes, but I won't be gone long. Wait right here..."  
Stepping around the desk, Frechette walked right past her without so much as a second thought, seemingly distracted. Seated there, Faith did nothing, her eyes still locked on the daylight glowing outside the window, a tinge of longing in her eyes as she watched, still encased in the confines of Frechette's office.  
Behind her, Frechette walked away and opened his closed office door. But as he opened it, he gave her a harsh look where she couldn't see him, before gently placing the door open to rest against the wall. Then he stepped calmly out into the hallway as if nothing was wrong, disappearing from sight. The door to the office remained wide open, the hallway bright behind Faith's turned back. The long empty corridor Frechette was leaving down stretched out of view in either direction.  
The office remained quiet. Faith suddenly seemed to tense, but she didn't move. There was no noise or motion in the office at all. Her eyes hadn't shifted, but somehow they didn't seem to be looking out of the window anymore. And though the position of her body hadn't changed in the slightest, as she sat there it somehow seemed that she drew to attention, fully aware of that open space behind her, sensing it, feeling that empty doorway waiting there.  
And suddenly... there was a different sort of glint in Faith's eyes, as she sat in Frechette's silent and unguarded room.  
  
Down the hallway and well out of view of the office interior, Dr. Frechette was walking calmly down the long corridor, looking totally unconcerned and in no hurry. He glanced once casually back over his shoulder to the receding office door as it remained there, gapingly wide open. But even then, Frechette didn't seem worried, walking forward as if everything was as it should be.  
It was some distance to the end of the hallway where it turned again, and he calmly walked around the corner that blocked the view ahead of him. He came to a stop in front of three muscular hospital orderlies who were patiently waiting, not surprised to see them there at all.  
Frechette gave each one a level look, totally sure of himself. "Your men are all in place?' he asked.  
"Yes, sir. At both ends of the hallway. We have all the exits discreetly covered, and all my men are out of sight. Every way out is watched. We even have someone watching the exterior window in case she tries to break it out."  
"Air ducts?" he asked casually.  
"You've been watching too many movies. No one could fit through those tiny things."  
Frechette nodded, acknowledging that everything was in place. Turning around, he calmly looked around the corner towards his distant office door. It was still open, but there was no apparent movement from inside. There was no sound. There was nothing.  
His eyes were cold as he waited, expecting to see Faith running frantically out at any moment, now that she was unattended and could try to escape.  
The orderly who had spoken shifted his feet, a little restless. A round wall clock jutted out into the hallway above their heads, it's hair thin second hand twitching around, ticking quietly above them.  
"Dr. Frechette, I'm still not sure what this is all about. How long are we supposed to do this?"  
Frechette didn't answer, still watching calmly around the corner, his gaze locked on that distant doorway, waiting.  
"For as long as it takes. I want to test her..." he finally said.  
The orderly said nothing else, stepping back.  
Frechette waited, a hardening resolve on his face. He felt like he was in the middle of a game. Some sort of waiting game between him and Faith, both seeing which would blink first. It wouldn't be him. He was prepared to wait her out, if need be.  
There was still no motion at all from Frechette's open office door.  
Above their heads, the seconds ticked, the minutes passed away, as Frechette and the three orderlies waited. Some leaned against the wall, then later stood away from it in a cluster. But they waited. He couldn't see them, but Frechette knew that others were in position too at the far end of the hallway, all playing the same silent waiting game with Faith, everyone impatient and on edge.  
Minute after minute passed, and still nothing. No motion at all from Frechette's door. He exhaled, growing frustrated. Thoughts careened through his head. There were too many doors, too many windows. Could they really cover them all? What if she was already out? Would she find some way they hadn't thought of? What was she doing? Lifting his hand, he looked at the expensive watch on his wrist, checking how much time had passed.  
  
Inside the office... Faith still hadn't moved. The daylight in the window looked so bright and inviting to her. But she still didn't move, absolutely silent, her hands resting penitently together on her lap. She could feel that open door behind her, feel it calling on her shoulder blades. But she didn't move, and the quiet in the office continued to stretch.  
And then slowly, as she sat there, no intention of doing anything else...  
  
... Faith started to smile.  
  
Frechette was still watching from his vantage point down the hallway, but nothing happened. And slowly the meaning of that silence was beginning to sink in for him.  
Defeated, he let his shoulders relax, lowering his head as the orderlies waited impatiently behind him. But Frechette still didn't seem to notice them at all, not concerned about them as he fired an annoyed glare towards his distant door.  
  
There were soft footsteps approaching down the corridor as Faith sat patiently in her chair. The footsteps were even, growing louder, coming closer. And then Frechette stepped into view again. He paused, outlined in the open doorway, watching her, her back towards him. And he was surprised that she hadn't moved at all. It suddenly struck him that she had known exactly what he had been doing.  
His expression weary as he closed the door, Frechette sealed the two of them in again, before walking past her and back to his desk. Faith glared quietly at him, pleased with herself. He sat down, not returning her gaze. Finally he picked up the phone and dialed a number.  
"Yes... That will be all. Thank you..." he said.  
Hanging up the phone, Frechette leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk, interlocking his fingers and resting them against his lips. After a moment in that position, he lifted his eyes to stare over at Faith, surrounded by the quiet of his office, his eyes probing, searching for answers, trying to understand.  
Faith didn't seem bothered by his gaze in the least, her features filled with a confidence and a look of victory.  
Frechette finally spoke, his voice dry. "Faith, I know you believe that you have to eventually leave this hospital to finish your mission. Just now... the door was open, nobody was around. Why didn't you try to escape?"  
Faith looked at him. Her eyes remained calm, but it seemed more that they were sad about his lack of understanding, his lack of faith in what really was. When she spoke, it was as if she was disappointed in him. Disappointed that he still couldn't see. "I didn't leave, because you really don't understand me at all. You don't understand the meaning of what I'm trying to do. You don't see that... it's not up to you to give me my freedom. But beyond that... the most important reason I didn't try to escape is because it's not destined yet for me to leave..."  
Frechette growled at her words, slamming a pen down, angry and frustrated as his gaze dropped to his notes. He looked down at them, growing more curious about them, eyes traveling over the copious, detailed specifics Faith had recited to him about Trevor's ongoing relationship with Claire. Provided, supposedly, by the gods. For an unguarded moment, he started to wonder. For an unguarded moment, he didn't know what to believe.  
  
It was the same park in the middle of Chicago again. But this time instead of the clear blue from earlier in the day, the air held a slight feeling of restlessness under a gray overcast sky. The sidewalk was the same long expanse across the green of the grass, a straight line stretching the length of the park. The entire park was nearly empty, no one in sight today except for one small park bench near the exact center of the long sidewalk. It was occupied by one man who seemed to be engrossed in the daily paper, holding it up in the gray light and for all purposes oblivious to the world, remaining out of view behind it. Beyond him, there was no one.  
Walking into the far end of the park, Claire Allen took a breath as she stepped onto the end of that long sidewalk, like she had so many times before, an expression of pleased anticipation on her face. Stepping forward, she acknowledged to herself how this nearly daily walk through the park had become a bit of a minor ritual for her. Claire gazed expectantly towards the far end of the sidewalk, still moving, until she saw why she was there. And why she enjoyed this one particular ritual so much.  
In the distance at the other end of the park, Trevor turned a corner and was there, walking calmly towards her on the same sidewalk. And as the two of them converged, they both to all outward appearances acted innocently enough, having done this before. But as always, as they approached each other, neither could help but offer the other a tiny smile.  
Gently, Claire's hand dropped to her side, fingers tingling in anticipation of that grazing touch she was about to share with Trevor as they passed, neither planning to stop. That brief touch, secret yet out in the open, day after day, had become such a simple and erotic thing to them. Almost like a seductive dance between the two of them. And as Claire approached Trevor, she thought about how whenever she walked this sidewalk, Trevor was somehow always there, warming her with the same brush pass, day after day. Even now it warmed her to see him there, watching him grow closer in the distance. Knowing that soon his hand was about to touch hers again, even if it was only for the briefest of moments.  
Neither of them seemed worried as they shared that gaze. No one else was around anyway. There was only the unseen man reading a newspaper, and he couldn't see anything as he sat behind it. So as the distance closed between them, Claire and Trevor walked confidently towards each other, smiling, feeling that quick rising thrill of anticipation flowing through them.  
They were nearly together, a few steps away.  
And then, the man holding the newspaper calmly lowered it, absently turning the page and coming fully into view.  
Dr. Frechette was sitting there on the park bench exactly where Trevor and Claire would pass before him, leaning back as if completely at ease, nothing out of the ordinary. Frechette shifted the paper lower, pretending to read it, pretending not to be watching them approach.  
Instantly, a panic and coldness passed through both Trevor and Claire the moment the spotted him there, their faces going stiff and blank as they kept walking towards each other. They couldn't stop now. It was like an accident waiting to happen, both stepping helplessly forward, neither making any suspicious moves. Claire pulled her hand up from her side, the panic she felt almost visible in her eyes.  
Overhead, dropping from the gray overcast sky, distant thunder rumbled.  
Trying to be casual, Trevor and Claire averted their gazes from each other in those final steps, a nervous fear settling sharply across Claire's shoulders as in that instant they both reached Frechette at the same time.  
Still walking, Trevor and Claire looked up to each other as if just spotting the other, right before they passed, their bodies stiff and unconvincing as their voices sounded. Overhead there were more rumbles of thunder.  
"Hello, Dr. Allen." Trevor said.  
"Hello, Mr. Hale." Claire said.   
As they awkwardly passed each other in front of him, Frechette shifted his cold eyes up to them for the briefest of moments. Neither of them stopped, going on their way as if they didn't see him there. Their fingers didn't touch. Frechette looked back down at his paper as if nothing were wrong.  
And then it began to rain.  
Water drops started pouring down onto all of them out of the grey overcast sky, quickly pelting Frechette as he sat on the park bench, and doing the same to Trevor and Claire as they walked away from each other on the sidewalk. The rainfall quickly blanketed over them, and the sidewalk became slick, gleaming with moisture as rain fell and dripped off everything.  
And even though Trevor and Claire were getting soaked in the deluge, neither changed their pace, retreating nervously, their backs to each other. They were simply trying to escape Frechette's gaze without doing anything suspicious.  
Frechette himself seemed oblivious to the heavy downpour, sitting on the park bench as if nothing was wrong. But now his brow was hard in thought, and there was a frown on his wet face, water speckling his glasses. Looking up, Trevor and Claire had finally left the park. He watched where they had separately disappeared, his mind tumbling with all sorts of thoughts. All around, the rain continued to pelt him, filling the air with an ambient, wet hiss. Drops were rolling down his face, but he didn't seem to notice.  
Slowly Frechette reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. It had two quick notes he had written down, taken from the longer notes Faith had given him today.  
Looking down at the tiny slip of paper as it twitched in the pounding rain, Frechette read what he had written there. Faith had predicted everything that should have happened here. Trevor and Claire. A brush of hands in the park, even the time and place it would happen today. And as Frechette looked down at it, he saw that he had scribbled down one last bit about Faith's prediction in the park, putting it in parenthesis beside it. A single word.  
Rain.  
Frechette's mind tumbled over what he had just witnessed, not believing what he had really seen. It had all happened exactly as Faith had predicted. She had gotten every detail absolutely right. Except for the brush of Trevor and Claire's fingers, which he was certain would have happened if he hadn't been there. He blinked in disbelief, having come here to disprove Faith, and instead proving his own assumptions wrong.  
Rainwater poured down his cheek. It had to all be a coincidence. A lucky guess. It couldn't be that Faith was.... Frechette looked down at the second item he had written from Faith's account. It was the other item he had decided to check on, just a simple snippet of words. The name of a nurse, at the hospital where Trevor had been treated when he had been shot. The name of a nurse who apparently had seen something. The name of a nurse he should talk to.  
  
The end of the grimy alley was almost a complete sheet of falling water, pouring off the roof, backlit by the gray, raining sky beyond it as the downpour continued on, thick as ever, the sound of thunder rolling overhead. The fallen rain was running in rivulets down the center of the alley and dropping off into a gutter. Everything was soaked and wet, moist and miserable.  
Someone suddenly moved into sight, hiding in the concrete recess of a loading dock in the run down alley. He was standing there, waiting with wet brick all around him. It was Trevor, poking his head out from the recess, looking towards the end of the alley and waiting nervously as he paced, soaked to the bone from the downpour he had walked through.  
The outline of a female figure appeared, before darting quickly through the cascading sheet of water at the end of the alley, desperate as she ran deeper in. Claire quickly spotted Trevor hiding there, waiting for her, and she raced up the wet steps to him as the rain continued to pour down between both their frightened faces.  
Claire finally collapsed into Trevor's arms, both of them stepping back into the deeper recesses of the loading dock and out of view of the alley. She held him tightly, just as soaked as he was, both trying to calm their breathing.  
Claire closed her eyes, leaning gratefully against him as the fear of Frechette sitting there waiting for them in the park started to subside. Leaning against Trevor, he held her tightly, both feeling the warmth of the other through their wet clothes, the rainy air cold on their skin.  
Gently, Trevor rested his face against hers, stroking her wet hair, closing his eyes too, while they both tried to calm down.  
"That was close, Claire..." he whispered.  
Looking over his shoulder, there was a tinge of fear in her sad eyes. "It's like Frechette's everywhere now, closing in around us... Trevor, he couldn't have been in the park by accident."  
"I know..." he said softly, holding her.  
"Frechette must suspect something. He must know something. He has to, Trevor."  
"We'll just have to be more careful, Claire. That's all..."  
She nodded, quietly accepting that. And then she held him tighter, losing herself just in the feel of them pressed together, alone finally in each other's arms after what had turned into a long day. When she spoke again, it was quietly, feeling such contentment there with him, but also a little frustration.  
"Trevor, I hate how we have to hide like this..."  
"Me too..." His face against her hair, he closed his eyes, inhaling the smell of her, of her body, of her perfume. "You smell good..."  
Claire smiled, holding him. "Well, Trevor... Secluded spot, nobody watching us, the two of us alone... Usually you're all over me by now."  
Softly he sighed, pulling her close, looking over her shoulder. "Not everything is about sex, Claire... I just... I just want to hold you."  
"While we can..." Claire sighed, checking her watch. She didn't have much time, before there was a meeting she wanted to go to. "Trevor.. Will it always be this way? Sneaking off, stealing moments... hiding in shadows?"  
The alley was quiet except for the noise of the rain as they held each other. Trevor pulled her in tight, thinking about Claire's question, not letting her go. But as he thought about it, a concerned look came into his face, and he realized that he didn't have a good answer for her.  
  
The rain clouds pulled back, rolling away to reveal a brightening blue sky over the city of Chicago, as the uncovered sun began to fall towards the horizon, painting everything in the light of a lazy, late afternoon.  
In the apartment he shared with Jaclyn, Champ pulled up the window blinds, smiling into the afternoon sun, the glass speckled with dots of rainwater. He slid the window open, inhaling the moist, clean air, filling his lungs, making him feel better.  
Champ loved the smell after the rain. Somehow it always seemed to refresh him, invigorate him. As he stepped back from the window, he looked around at the small apartment he shared with Jaclyn. And all his fears began to fade. This wasn't a bad life. What had he been so afraid of? Why had he been so negative before about the bridal magazine. Would that really be that bad?  
His mind worked over that. The sunlight in the open window behind him, as clean breeze blew across his shoulders before he walked away. A small television was on in the living room, as an attractive anchorwoman was delivering the news. Champ listened absently as the anchorwoman spoke.  
  
"_And tonight is the big night for all you lovelorn moon gazers out there. Yes, it's finally here. Tonight is lunar perigee, the point where the moon comes the closest to the earth. Selenologists say that tonight's particular lunar perigee will be the closest the moon has come in several decades. Something to see. So for all you romantic types out there, catch it while you can... More after this..._"  
  
Champ watched, smiling to himself as the news program faded. He was thinking of Jaclyn as he stood in their apartment, thinking of them having a life together, thinking good thoughts. It was then when he heard the simple and romantic music coming from the television, a lush orchestration when he looked over at the commercial that was playing.  
It had no dialogue, just images. Images of happy faces, of a woman turning, draped in a beautiful wedding dress, her face beaming. And as the music crescendoed, it suddenly focused on images of wedding rings. It was a diamond ring commercial without words, and Champ watched it intently.  
Suddenly there was a knock at his front door. Shaking the pleasant thoughts away, Champ turned off the television and walked over to answer it, swinging the door open.  
Trevor was standing there, absolutely soaked to the bone, a deeply introspective look on his face.  
"Trevor..." Champ said, surprised at his condition. "You're soaked! Come inside. What, have you been doing laps in the rain?"  
Trevor splashed into the apartment, his eyes intent. Water scattered off him in droplets, his steps sounding wet. Champ quickly closed the door, but as Trevor turned to face him. He didn't seem concerned about his clothes at all, fixing Champ with a stare.  
"Trevor, maybe we should get you dried up and--"  
"Don't worry about that. I came to talk about you. What's up with you and Jaclyn? Something's wrong, I know it."  
Champ paused, amazed that Trevor was so concerned about him and Jaclyn considering his current waterlogged condition. But he recognized that fire in his eyes. Trevor wouldn't be put off this. Champ nodded, looking at him.  
"OK, Trevor. I'll tell you everything. Let's go grab a seat... And a towel."  
  
The sidewalks were still shimmering with residual rain under the clearing afternoon sky. Claire rushed to the appointment she was already late for. Her clothes were still as soaked as Trevor's, but they were starting to dry, her hair a chaotic mess. Having calmed down, she looked up at the building before her for a moment, before going inside.  
It was a small intimate jazz club, but no one was there yet, so early in the afternoon. But despite the empty tables, it still looked like it would be a great place to spend an evening with an audience, casual and classy. Claire looked around, hearing the sounds of musicians rehearsing. Not knowing the layout of the place, she moved over to the bartender setting up for tonight.   
"Bill Allen?" she asked him.  
He nodded towards the back, in the direction of the sounds of rehearsing. Claire thanked him and started to walk away, her expression calmly trying to ignore the fact that her clothes were still heavy with water, and her dark hair was plastered against her head. The bartender gave her a strange look as she left, wondering why she was so soaked. But Claire didn't notice, going deeper into the jazz club.  
Slowly the stage slid into sight, coming into view beyond tables blocking the way. Bill Allen was on stage with some other musicians. It was an extremely casual scene, all of them just gathered in the empty jazz bar to rehearse and improvise, just having a good time. They were playing softly, making it all up on the spot, with Claire's father bent over his guitar, his eyes closed and lost in the music.  
Claire paused, watching her father play. Watching her father do what he loved, without reservation. And slowly a smile spread across her face. So she simply listened, enjoying the music. She pulled her purse in, and it splashed against her as the music continued. Giving her purse a strange look, Claire tilted it slowly, water pouring out of it in a stream to splash on the floor.  
The group of musicians was still playing on stage, caught up in their music. Finally they all cadenced, chuckling at each other as the last notes faded. Then a single pair of hands applauded from the back of the room, and they all turned their heads.  
Bill Allen smiled. "Honey.. There you are. I didn't know if you were still coming..."  
He put down his guitar, stepping off the stage and moving through the empty tables over to her. Claire smiled as he approached, happy to see him. "Hi dad..."  
He blinked at her wet state, but Claire didn't seem to notice as she gave him a deep hug instead, water slowly seeping into her father's clothes.  
He smiled, wondering what was going on with her. "Claire honey... Let's sit down."  
She smiled back. "Ok."  
  
Bill Allen looked over at his daughter when they were finally seated at one of the small tables in the empty jazz club. In the background behind them, the other musicians had started playing again, creating a longing, unpredictable improv, filling the club with quiet, delicate sounds. Bill Allen looked at his daughter for a long time, the music behind them. She still hadn't said anything, distracted by something, her hair still glistening with rainwater.  
He blinked, wondering, speaking in his warm, gravelly voice. "Honey.. What's wrong?"  
There was the barest smile on Claire's lips. "Why do you think something's wrong?"  
Chuckling, he leaned back, still a little concerned. "Well.... You tell me suddenly that you want to meet me today. That there was something you wanted to talk to me about. Then you show up late, totally soaked, totally distracted by something..."  
Claire nodded, but there was a light in her eyes as she lowered her gaze, thinking quietly.  
Her father tilted his head. "I recognize that look.."  
She raised her gaze to him. "What look?"  
"That one. I've seen it before. Watching you grow up. Saw it later on the woman you would become. I've seen that look before..." He smiled. "This is about a man in your life, isn't it?"  
She pretended to be offended, but she smiled even more. "Dad..."  
"What's wrong, honey. Are you miserable?"  
"Do I look miserable?"  
"No..." His voice trailed off as he gave her a keen look, watching her sitting there with her clothes soaked. "No you look... _Happy_. You're worried about something, I can see, but deep down... My daughter looks happy."  
She smiled even wider, realizing he saw what she already felt.  
Claire sighed, feeling better. "Dad, I wanted to ask you about you and mom. You still love mom, don't you?"  
"Of course I do. I always will. You know that."  
"But before things went the way they did between you two..." Claire paused, searching her father's eyes. "... how did you know? How did you know it was right?"  
He smiled as his eyes glittered with memories. "You just feel it, honey. When it's right, you don't ask. Because deep down you already know. Like you." He gave her a knowing look, his voice full of kindness. "Like you know right now. I don't know who he is, but I can see. You already know, Claire... You don't need too ask me. But you always can."  
Claire smiled brightly, happy, loving her father so much in that moment. She reached out and took his hand in hers on the table, holding it tightly, glad he was there.  
Bill Allen was warmed by her gesture, smiling. "Do you think I'll ever get to meet him?"  
Claire thought about it, her eyes sparkling. "Maybe... Someday."  
Pleased, he sighed, looking at her. "I'm glad you made it over this afternoon honey. I needed to tell you I'll be performing pretty late tonight. Some really big time players are coming in to play with us, and we'll probably be at it here till the wee hours. It's going to be great. And after..." he coughed slightly. "Well... I've been invited to a friend's place overnight. So I might not make it home, so you'll have the house to yourself. If that's ok."  
Claire smiled, giving him a look. "What's her name?"  
"Never mind."  
Laughing, Claire looked at him. Finally she leaned across the tiny table, giving him a warm hug.  
"Thank's dad..."  
"Sure thing, honey."  
They stayed that way for a few tender moments, a father and a daughter hugging in an empty jazz club.  
"I gotta go," he said, pulling out of her arms as he stood up. "The guys are waiting..."  
"My dad the demon fingers..." She teased as she smiled up at him. "I'll see you tomorrow..."  
"Absolutely. Bye, Claire."  
With that he walked over to join the other musicians playing on the stage.  
Claire sighed, looking at him as he picked up his guitar, before standing from her seat at the small table herself. She grabbed her wet purse, her body feeling drier now, lighter. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And she couldn't stop smiling, thinking about tonight with Trevor. She turned and walked, heading for home, and for the first time, totally certain.  
  
"Ok, talk to me Champoo..."  
Still soaked, Trevor's gaze was intense as he looked over the kitchen table at Champ where they were seated across from each other. Jaclyn's small apartment was around them, but no one else was there but the two of them as the bright afternoon light glowed in the open window, a cleansing breeze sweeping through behind them.  
Trevor hardly noticed, fixated on the changing expressions on Champ's face, fixated on the problems he saw churning there. Problems he had been ignoring lately as the god of love, and shouldn't have been. Problems that had obviously gone on for far too long. "So what's up, Mr. Terrace. Why have you been Mount Negativity lately about romance? Past few days you've been a wetter blanket than I am right now. What's going on?'  
Champ blinked defensively. "I.... I haven't been negative..."  
"Yes you have." Trevor interrupted, in no mood for games. "Remember? A few days ago at the bar? You were actually trying to talk me out of being with Claire. That's not like you. You're usually '_just shut up and do it already_' when it comes to Claire and me. So that tells me it's not about Claire and me. So what is it? Is something wrong between you and Jaclyn?"  
Champ paused, searching for words. "No, it's... It's nothing like that. It's about something else. Something I found..."  
Trevor shook his head. "Look, every woman sometimes needs a little pick me up when their guy's not around. Just because she has, or uses, one of those doesn't mean--"  
"No, not that Trevor." Champ sighed, giving Trevor a long nervous look. "A bridal magazine..."  
Trevor blinked slowly, leaning back. "Oh..."  
"Yeah..." Champ nodded. "Oh..."  
Concerned, Trevor searched Champ's face, trying to judge his reaction. "And is that necessarily... a bad thing?"  
"I don't know, Trevor. I love Jaclyn. But that's a big step. I didn't even know we were at that point yet."  
Trevor smiled. "Well do you know now?"  
"I don't--... Well, maybe." Champ let out a whispery laugh, pleased and nervous all at once as he thought about it. "I mean, it wouldn't be so bad, would it?"  
Trevor chuckled. "Hey, if Claire wasn't around, I'd snatch up Jaclyn in a second," he teased.  
Champ smiled, thinking about it.  
Trevor leaned forward, prompting his friend on. "Champ... don't ruin what you have with Jaclyn by keeping this thing from her. You've got to be honest with her. You've got to tell her you found the magazine. You've got to talk to her about it. Don't keep it twisting inside. The only way this can work itself out, is if you work it out between you, out in the open. By being honest with each other. And by being honest with what's inside you. Inside your heart..."  
Champ thought about that, about seriously talking marriage with Jaclyn. And out of nowhere his chest warmed as he pushed those fears down, somewhere down deep, and he imagined what it would be like discussing it with her. Maybe even really doing it. Planning it. And suddenly there was an electricity in him. He saw how foolish he had been not to just tell the woman he loved. Trevor was right. He would tell her. Tonight.  
Sitting across from Trevor, Champ actually laughed, releasing his nervousness. Trevor pulled back, smiling, amazed at the change in Champ's eyes. The afternoon breeze still blew cool over them from the open window, clean and cool from the earlier rain as the day continued to deepen towards sunset.  
Champ looked at Trevor gratefully. "Thank's Trevor... You're right. It's simple, but you're right. I'll tell her, talk to her about it tonight. I'm glad you came by. You always manage to clear things up..."  
Trevor smiled, nodding. "Well that's me. Trevor Hale. Neighborhood Love Jedi..." He started waving an imaginary light saber around, making wzzzz noises.  
Champ nodded,standing up as Trevor did the same across from him. His clothes starting to dry now, Trevor looked around the apartment, not as worried about Champ and Jaclyn as he had been. "Look, I gotta go. Tell Jaclyn hi for me. I just stopped by because I felt you probably needed a nudge with whatever was wrong. Are you working at Taggerty's tonight?"  
"No. Why?" Champ asked.  
"Oh nothing..." Trevor smiled. "I just... wanted you to tell Linda I wouldn't be in for my shift tonight."  
Blinking, Champ picked up on an eagerness in Trevor's eyes. "Why not?"  
"Oh... Something's come up. Tonight I have other plans..."  
Champ wondered what that enigmatic look was about. He walked Trevor over to the front door, but not asking any further. "Thanks for coming by Trevor..."  
Trevor whirled towards him quickly, a stern look on his face again, pointing a finger. "You WILL talk to Jaclyn about this, right?"  
Champ smiled. "I will Trevor. I'll talk to her. I promise..."  
""Ok..." Trevor stepped out the door and into the hallway. "And look, if you feel yourself slipping, chickening out, can't do it, come by my apartment. Doesn't matter when, ok? You two have to face this. Come see me. I'll help you both work this out. I'll get you two through this..."  
"Ok, Trevor. Bye."  
Trevor wrung some water out from the hem of his shirt, his face suddenly curious. "Do you think I might be using a bit too much moisturizer?"  
Champ rolled his eyes. "Bye, Trevor."  
"Bye, Champoo..."  
Champ closed the door, smiling to himself. He looked around the apartment, feeling content there. And for the first time, he thought this was going to work out. He knew how he felt about Jaclyn. His fears were a thing of the past.  
Walking forward he thought of that image in the magazine. The wedding dress Jaclyn had circled where she had written 'This is the one!'. And he pictured Jaclyn in that dress. Pictured himself taking her hand, taking her into the rest of their lives together as his wife. Kissing her, being with her, and no one else. And the thought warmed him, filling him with joy, those remaining, lingering doubts pushed aside.  
"Champoo..." a distant voice yelled.  
He blinked, wondering where that was coming from. It took him a few moments of looking around the apartment before he heard that call again, coming out of the distance from the open apartment window.  
"Champoo..."  
He walked over to the window and looked down, smiling. Trevor was on the drying sidewalk below, waving his arms, calling up to him, finally seeing Champ in the window.  
"Talk to her!" He yelled up, reminding him urgently.  
Champ nodded, yelling back down. "I will!""  
With that Trevor turned around, starting to walk away, leaving wet shoe prints on the sidewalk.  
The sunlight glowed warm in Champ's face, and he breathed in the air. He would talk to Jaclyn. It was getting later. The sun was already sinking towards late afternoon, and she would probably be home soon. But then he paused. He looked back at the tv sitting turned off in the living room behind him. Then he looked at the time, doing calculations in his head.  
Champ smiled. "Wait... I got a better idea..."  
  
Trevor was introspective as he walked down the busy Chicago streets towards his apartment, thinking about Champ and Jaclyn, about the possible happy future they might have together now. But he was also thinking about him and Claire, about how much he loved her.  
He knew he couldn't think in quite those terms with Claire. It was unthinkable, right? Or was it? As he walked the sidewalk, Trevor was suddenly filled with a need to show Claire how much she really meant to him, and would always mean. He thought of how far they had come, how much they had been through together. He wanted her to know that his feelings wouldn't change, that his future was with her, and he would never abandon it again. He had to show her in some way how serious he was about her.  
Suddenly Trevor smiled, stopping there on the sidewalk as traffic and people flowed past all around him. He looked up into the sun, happy. Feeling it warm him.  
"Wait..." he said softly to himself. "I got a better idea..."  
He almost laughed, knowing what to do now. Wanting to do it for her, despite the risks, despite the chances he was taking. He knew this was right. Changing direction away from home, Trevor headed downtown instead, hoping he'd make it before it was closed.  
  
The sun was beginning to set, filling Jaclyn's apartment with a warm, delicate light. Then there was the sound of keys, before the front door swung open. Jaclyn stepped in, a little tired as she closed the door, putting her stuff down. She looked expectantly around the apartment, but came away a little disappointed that Champ wasn't there.  
Tired, she moved through her living room. The sun was a beautiful orange red orb in an amazing canvas of color, bathing her in it's lush glow. Jaclyn sighed, rubbing her neck, happy to be home, but wanting Champ there. Thinking of him, she suddenly felt warm, introspective in the sunset light. She walked towards the kitchen table, and when she accidentally looked down, she smiled.  
There was a scribbled note to her from Champ. Still bathed in vibrant sunlight, Jaclyn lifted the note, bringing it closer to her face, smiling as she read it.  
  
_Stepped out, Jackie. Trevor says hello. Thank the gods for him. He made me confront something. Something we need to discuss. I'll be back in a few hours. I can't wait to see you. Miss you. Love, Champ. _  
  
Jaclyn exhaled contently, holding the note against her chest, grateful even for that small contact. Bathed in the sun's light, she looked around, missing him. Warmed by him. She wondered what he meant, what he wanted to talk about, but she didn't have a clue. She pushed it out of her mind. Champ not being there gave her the opportunity to do something she needed to do.  
Without another word she headed towards the bedroom, towards the bridal magazine she had hidden in her dresser drawer where she hoped Champ wouldn't find it.  
  
Trevor's mind was spinning. But he knew he wanted to do this.  
He was on a downtown sidewalk, looking up at the building stretching above him in the quickly deepening sunset, the distant sky far behind a vibrant shade of endless purple, glowing above the dark shadows of buildings all around.  
Trevor paused there on the dim sidewalk, taking a breath. But finally he gathered his courage and stepped forward, opening the door of the building before him and going inside.  
  
The dresser drawer in Jaclyn's apartment slid open. Her fingers reached down, shifting clothes, pulling them aside. Her pale, delicate hands finally found it, the magazine she had hidden. The bridal magazine she didn't want Champ to know about.  
Her smile widened, picking the thick magazine up gently in her grasp. She sat back on the bed, looking at it with excitement in her eyes, starting to flip through the pages ever so fondly.  
  
Champ's mind was spinning. But he knew he wanted to do this.  
He was on a downtown sidewalk, the sky almost completely dark above him as the sun disappeared further below the horizon. He paced nervously on the dark sidewalk, looking up at the building before him, trying to calm down. Deep down, he convinced himself. He knew this was right. He knew it.  
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Champ smiled, feeling certain. Finally he gathered his courage and stepped forward, opening the door of the building before him and going inside.  
  
Jaclyn's fingers trailed over the bridal magazine, happy Champ hadn't found it. She gazed down on the page she had it open to. It was a picture of a woman. A woman in a beautiful wedding dress. The picture which she had circled and written 'This is the one!' beside. She smiled at the image, seeing how perfect it looked, how perfect it was, and would be for her.  
Finally decided at last, she reached over and picked up the phone, still smiling, contently dialing a number.  
After a few seconds, her expression lit up. Someone answered on the other end. Jaclyn's eyes sparkled with joy.  
"Melanie, hi! I'm glad I caught you. Yeah, things are going great. Hope they're great over there. I think I finally did it... I finally found the perfect wedding dress... Yeah, in the magazine you sent me to look at. It's beautiful, Melanie. Totally perfect for you. You've got to see it! So... Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow. I could show which one to you, and we could talk, maybe go see it in person before you have to decide?"  
  
Trevor walked back out into the street again, the twilight sky just starting to deepen as all around, streetlights started blinking to life in the distance. He paused on the sidewalk, looking up, lookin up at those first dim stars, a bright smile on his face as he stared into infinity. He was thinking of Claire, of her beautiful face, thinking of their future together. He hoped those stars up there approved. This was right. He knew it was right.  
He felt like he was walking on air, ignoring the heaviness and the soreness of the day, elated instead as he walked away down the sidewalk. He had to show it to Claire. He had to. He couldn't believe he had gone through with it. But she had to see it.  
As he walked, happy beyond what he could have ever believed, he passed under a row of streetlamps angling over the sidewalk, heading home, thinking about tonight. And coincidentally or not, as he walked under each lamp, it suddenly lit up, coming to life in a row, one after another as he passed, following him. And as he moved with patient, joyous steps, the lamps brightened... lighting Trevor's way.  
  
Champ walked back onto the street again, all the streetlamps already glowing in the darkness all around him. He paused nervously on the sidewalk, lifting his face, looking up at the brightening stars. His nervousness was overwhelmed for a moment by a small smile, thinking of Jaclyn. Of her beautiful face waiting at home, of their future together. This was right. He hoped it was right.  
And suddenly, it seemed again that his doubts were gone and he was totally certain, as he started down the sidewalk. He couldn't believe he had done it. He couldn't believe what he had just done. But he had to show Jaclyn. He had to. She had to see it.  
And for a brief moment, the thought of that made him so happy. He paused, feeling it there against him, knowing what it was. He couldn't help it, pulling it out, taking a deep breath as he held what he had gotten from the store.  
It was a small hinged box, covered in soft material as his fingers gently opened the lid.  
And inside... was an engagement ring.  
Laughing nervously, Champ exhaled, watching it sparkle in the streetlights, feeling some pull, as if some pull from above had caused this. Or maybe it was the moon, or the tides or something. But he didn't care. His fingers trailed over the delicate ring, imagining it on Jaclyn's finger.  
Champ smiled, shutting the box. And with that, he walked down the sidewalk towards home, towards Jaclyn. Above him, the streetlights were already lit, sparkling under a brand new night sky.  
  


------


	4. perigee pg 04

------  
  


There was a smile of anticipation on Trevor's face when he opened the front door of his apartment. He barely saw much of anything as he entered, pleased, introspective as he closed the door. Inside, the lights of the apartment were already lit, filling the space with a low home-like glow, warm against the early darkness outside the windows. Trevor's roommate Allison was moving around inside, busy with various nightly chores, currently washing dishes, a monotonous task and one that was constantly neglected by Trevor.  
As Trevor stepped slowly into the center of the living room, he hardly heard her over there. He hardly noticed anything around him, standing there in a blissful daze, thinking of Claire. Wondering if it was too early to call her. She should be home by now. Suddenly, Trevor couldn't help but smile, thinking of her, as such sweet anticipation like he had never felt before filled him.  
Still concentrating on her chores, Allison walked right past Trevor's oblivious form. But then she paused and looked back, noticing him standing there motionless, and she gave him a curious look for a moment.  
"Hey Trevor..." she said softly.  
"Hey Allison."  
Her face lit up in a smile, intrigued by Trevor as always, and happy he had finally made it home. She put down the towel she had been using and walked up to him. As she moved close, Allison playfully took both his hands in hers and pulled Trevor towards the couch, still smiling as she sat both of them down facing each other.  
"I'm glad you're home, Trevor. I've been wanting to get you alone again. I want to talk to you."  
Trevor was full of happy, distracting thoughts about Claire, so he was not really paying much attention when he answered. "Yeah? What about..."  
Biting her lip, Allison almost blushed, a true rarity for her. "Well... About what we were discussing in the bar before. Remember? About you... helping me? Helping me with this one guy I'm crazy about?"  
That perked up Trevor's interest a little, making him look over at her. "Right... How's that been going by the way?"  
She gave him a long, direct look. "Well... I don't know yet."  
Nodding, Trevor leaned in towards her. "Ok... Tell me what you need...."  
She smiled seductively. "Oh I thought you'd never ask..."  
Trevor's eyes were sparkling. He was in a good mood and eager to help as he rubbed his hands together. "Point me at who you want me to do and I'll do it."  
"Well.."  
Allison leaned forward, about to tell him, but she was stopped short as the phone rang in the living room behind them.  
Trevor was up from the couch like a bolt, sprinting, eager and out of control towards the phone, leaving Allison blinking and alone on the couch behind him. Nearly falling, Trevor scrambled forward, almost losing his balance as he frantically slid to a stop and pulled the phone up to his ear.  
Suddenly his voice was absolutely calm. "Hello?"  
  
Turning into view, Claire smiled as she held the phone to the side of her face, alone in the dim romantic lighting of her house. She stepped forward, a glow in her eyes as she cradled the phone tenderly. The mere sound of Trevor's voice answering on the other end sent a quivering thrill through her.  
"Trevor... Don't you think it's time you got over here and stopped playing hard to get?"  
  
In his own apartment, Trevor was smiling too when he heard her voice. His eyes were sparkling just as brightly as hers. "Why Dr. Allen... I think you might be right for once. I do feel the need for a... session, with you coming on. Do you think you could find a place to squeeze me in?"  
  
Leaning her head against the polished, vertical wooden column in her entryway, Claire chuckled. "Get over here, Trevor."  
  
Trevor's lips parted, thrusting his lower jaw forward a little as he smiled. "On my way..."  
  
When Trevor hung up, Claire sighed and looked around for a moment, her entire body tingling. Her gaze traveled over the elegant, familiar furnishings of her apartment, dim in the lowered lighting. But somehow it was as if she was seeing them all for the first time. Her every sense seemed heightened and alive, overly aware. The sensations almost felt like caresses, the clothes shifting against her body as she moved, the air cool on her skin, the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed in soft anticipation. She smiled warmly, moving off to get ready.  
  
Trevor hung up the phone, nearly bouncing and jumping in place with anticipation as he took an eager breath. Allison got up from the couch behind him, not sure what was going on but walking over to him again.  
"So Trevor, about what we were talking about..." she began.  
Trevor was totally not in a place to be listening, his voice quick. "I'm sorry Allison. It will have to wait. I have to go."  
"Right now?" She blinked, frustrated.  
"Oh yeah... _Now_."  
"But I really need your help with this guy Trevor. You just got here. Couldn't we---"  
"Sorry Allison. I have to go right now."  
"But Trevor--"  
He was already stepping around her, smiling enigmatically to himself, but not stopping. "I wish I could help. But it's just going to have to wait and--"  
"But--"  
Trevor was already opening the front door. "Hey who knows. Maybe the answer you need will present itself while I'm gone. See you Allison..."  
"But--"  
Allison stepped forward, but Trevor shut the door between them, leaving her alone inside.  
She pulled back from it, her shoulders dropping, her disappointment obvious.  
"Damn..." she whispered.  
Without anything further, Allison went back to the chores she had been doing, moving away in the solitude of the now empty apartment.  
  
After a short while of waiting, there was a soft knock on Claire's front door.  
Her hand reached forward, opening it. It was dark outside, the tree lined street beyond. Trevor was standing there casually on her doorstep, leaning to one side against the brick wall, his arms crossed, smiling at her.  
"Hello lady. Did someone order a--"  
Trevor never got to finish what he was going to say before Claire lurched forward. Her yearning mouth cut him off, sealing roughly on his.  
With a moan Claire tackled him hard, her arms wrapped around him, kissing him desperately and without preamble. Her lips were eager and unafraid on his, opening his lips with hers as she pushed him back and slammed him roughly to the hard brick wall. Holding her in his arms, Trevor scrambled a little under the press of her assault as their mouths, bodies, and hands started roaming breathlessly over each other. Turning, twisting, the stumbled back and forth across her doorstep, on the verge of falling inside, before Claire broke the kiss, leaving them both panting heavily.  
"Trevor... let's go inside..." she moaned.  
"Yes ma'am."  
As the held each other, kissing deeply again, they stumbled forward into her house. Their hands began roaming over the other's body, neither turning from the other, neither noticing that the front door was left wide open behind them. The rest of the world had ceased to exist. All they knew was the feel of each other's bodies, the taste of each other's mouths, as their hearts pounded faster, beating under heated and electrified skin. A fire of need and joy coursed down their backs, growing deeper and deeper as their fingers touched what they had always wanted to touch. As their mouths opened, kissed what they wanted to kiss, and didn't let go. All the while their soft moans finally mingled together.  
Despite the heightened senses they felt, the room seemed a haze as they stumbled towards the staircase, not seeing the interior at all. But somehow they managed to ascend up towards Claire's bedroom. They were still in each other's desperate, moving arms, stepping haphazardly up and out of view.  
  
The hallway on the second floor stretched before them as Trevor and Claire kissed and stumbled awkwardly into it, the fire in their bodies growing ever deeper as they lost themselves to it. With her arms holding Trevor tightly, Claire pressed her enticing curves against him. Trevor eagerly shoved her spine to the wall behind her, and she moaned gratefully against his mouth. And then her legs came up to wrap around his waist, her mouth still devouring his, kissing him, pressing against him, pulling him flush against her.  
They remained there against the wall for a few moments, still fully clothed, reveling in the feel of each other as Trevor held her aloft, trapped between him and the wall. Her skirt slipped ever higher up a pale, beautiful thigh under Trevor's touch. Her bare feet were crossed over his shirt on the small of Trevor's back, one leg slipping down slightly to press to his firm back end, but still holding on as her ivory calf muscle pressed in, pulling him against her. Trevor's mouth was consuming hers greedily, both breathing heavily whenever their lips managed to break away from each other.  
"Claire?" A soft distant voice called from below.  
Trevor's chest was heaving for air as he leaned back from her, their waists still pressed together as she kept her legs wrapped around him in mid air. Her chest was heaving too as two sets of fumbling, desperate fingers began working on the other, Trevor's on her clothes and Claire's on his, trying to remove them as quickly as possible. Despite that fact, Claire's legs were not going to let go of their tight grip around his waist, and Trevor didn't want them to.  
"Claire..?" The dim voice called again, but louder now.  
Roughly, Claire pulled Trevor's shirt up over his head, making him wince unexpectedly with soreness in a moment of pain for some strange reason. But neither of them even really noticed why he winced, lost in their feelings as she tossed his shirt haphazardly away to land over a vase filled with yellow flowers on a hallway table next to them. Growing impatient, Trevor ripped the first few top buttons of Claire's blouse off, letting them clatter away since his anxious fingers seemed to have forgotten how to open them for some reason. He quickly exposed the soft, white expanse of skin just beneath her collarbone. Dropping his mouth eagerly, Trevor kissed her there, tasting her skin as Claire moaned and rocked her hips forward, her legs still tightly gripping his waist. Her hands roamed across the strong muscles of Trevor's now exposed back, wanting him, needing him.  
Now behind them came the sound of rising footsteps... coming up the stairs.  
"Claire?"  
And suddenly that fact finally broke through their over stimulated consciousnesses and they both froze, looking into each other's eyes, both whispering at the same time.  
"Your--"  
"My--"  
"--father." they said together.  
Trevor rolled his eyes in complete disbelief. "Ok, this is now verging on cruel!"  
The footsteps were closer, still out of sight but almost to the top of the stairs. Trevor and Claire scrambled apart from each other, him with his shirt still off, her with her blouse partially open.  
Trevor looked frantically around, his voice nervous and quick. "What do I do, what do I do!"  
Claire's mind worked quickly, grabbing him hard. "In here, in here Trevor!"  
She slammed open a door to a hallway closet, already shoving him in.  
Trevor's voice was an anxious whisper. "In here? Gods Claire, it's a total mess in here! Don't you ever--"  
"Trevor!" she whispered angrily back, slamming the door shut to silence him inside. She had barely sealed him in when she whirled around to face the man that had just appeared at the top of the stairs.  
Bill Allen smiled when he saw her standing there, walking over to her, totally without a clue. "Honey... there you are. Did you know you left your front door wide open?"  
"Oh... Umm..." Her breath still short, Claire struggled for something to say as she straightened her clothing as discreetly as possible. "I guess... guess I didn't notice."  
Her fingers were reaching blindly up, trying to button up the top of her blouse only to realize at last that the buttons weren't there anymore.  
Bill Allen was looking at her, noticing how disheveled she looked, giving her a curious stare. "Claire... are you alright."  
"Sure. Yes. Sure..." She blinked. "Why do you ask?"  
"You're sweating."  
Claire reached up, finding a thin residual sheen on her forehead.   
"Oh..." She tried to laugh it off. "Oh that's... that's nothing. I was... I was just working out. That's all. Got a little carried away."  
There was a dubious smile on his face when her father looked away. Noticing something, he reached slowly over and and his hand gently lifted a t-shirt from where it was draped over a vase of yellow flowers. "Quite a workout, it seems..."  
"Oh that... that's nothing..."  
Claire shrugged, but she didn't look very convincing.   
Bill Allen walked up to her, amused. The sudden, knowing look in his eyes spoke volumes. "Honey, I understand. I didn't mean to... show up unannounced. But those players I told you about are still stuck in Philly tonight. They won't come in until tomorrow. And I just wanted to spend a little time with my daughter."  
She touched his shoulder. "No, that's fine dad. It's okay. Really..."  
"Oh no it's not. " He smiled at her. "You don't have to explain. I'll get out of the way of your... workout. I think I'll go to that friend of mine's house a little earlier than I thought."  
Claire couldn't help but smile at his efforts. "Really?"  
"Yeah. I'm happy for you. Have fun, honey. Don't worry. I understand." He handed her the discarded t-shirt he was holding with a small smile for her. "So I'll see you tomorrow, right?"  
"Absolutely. Thank's dad..."  
Turning, Bill Allen started walking back the way he had come. But before he had gone too far he stopped, his grin widening. Slowly he leaned in closer to the closed closet door beside them.   
"Bye Trevor..." he said calmly.  
Trevor's voice was soft from inside. "Bye Mr.. Allen..."  
Claire covered her mouth, not believing her ears and trying not to laugh. She reached out before her father left, touching him, making him pause as she searched for words.  
"Dad... You knew?"  
"Yeah... " He looked at her tenderly. "For awhile now, sweetie..."  
"How?" she sounded incredulous.  
His face lit up. "Honey... Come on. My eyes are old. But they're not _ that_ old..."  
Claire stepped forward and hugged her father. "Thanks Dad."  
"No problem. Now let me get the hell out of here and I'll... I'll lock the front door for you on my way out. Bye Claire."  
"Bye..."  
With that her father walked away down the hall, before disappearing down the stairs. The sound of his steps receded, growing fainter. After a few moments, the sound of the front door being closed and locked followed, and everything was quiet as Claire stood there, smiling.  
Beside her, the closet door suddenly opened a crack, Trevor's voice cautious from inside.  
"Can I come out now?"  
Claire slowly opened the closet door with a smile, calming down as she let Trevor out. He looked at her with a sentimental light in his eyes. "Lovely man, your father..."  
"Yes." Claire agreed softly. "He is."  
"Very... understanding."  
"Just like his daughter..." She teased him, but her implication was clear, gazing heatedly at him. She stepped closer, touching his cheek with her hand.  
"Yeah." Trevor agreed with a smile. "She sure is. Great gal. I really miss Mara sometimes..."  
Chuckling, Claire reached down and pinched his exposed nipple hard for teasing her, making him twitch and howl. But he laughed a little too, his body contorting from what she was doing, inadvertently bringing his shirtless chest closer to hers to make her stop. With that they both paused, looking into each other's eyes, feeling the warmth of each other's skin, then stepping even closer.  
"Trevor... nothing's stopping us now." Her voice was soft and yearning.  
Tenderly, Trevor brought his face forward. They started to kiss. Claire's arms slipped past, slowly wrapping around him. The kiss continued, their bodies pressing forward against each other. The moans behind their sealed mouths grew, becoming louder as the sensations began to build, exploding through them again, growing even stronger, letting go as they lost themselves in the feel and caress of the other.  
Quickly it became more intense, and they began to scrambled along the hallway in each other's embrace towards the door of Claire's bedroom.  
As they moved into the bedroom, Trevor was removing Claire's blouse again, this time not waiting and ripping all the buttons free as he pushed it aside, kissing her neck. Claire rubbed her body forward against him, her exposed skin finally touching his. She was still wearing a delicate black lace bra. As they kissed and touched, they were moving, agonizingly slowly, closer to the waiting bed.  
She moaned with need. "Trevor..."  
His words were muffled against the skin of her neck, not wanting to pull his lips from it. "Umm-hmm?"  
Closing her eyes, Claire arched her spine towards him, encouraging what he was doing. "Trevor--... Mmm... Trevor I need a little pretense..."  
"Of course..." He was already slipping one bra strap off her shoulder.  
Barely listening, Trevor lifted her body and Claire instinctively wrapped her legs around him again like it was the most natural thing in the world, holding his waist with a grateful moan. Off balance and not caring, they fell backwards upright against the bedroom wall behind Claire, crashing hard into it as they kissed.   
She leaned forward, eagerly biting his earlobe as her breath came warm and quick against Trevor's skin. "No... I mean, I need pretense. I can't just do this at the drop of a hat..."  
Beside them, a tall pole with pegs at the top teetered precariously, bumped and shoved as their bodies moved and shifted back and forth. Finally noticing, Trevor and Claire looked over at it, and one of the women's hats Claire kept on the pegs swung lose and fell silently to the floor, lying crumpled beside them.  
Claire looked at Trevor for a moment, passion and need in her eyes. "Oh close enough..."  
With a laugh they both fell towards the bed.  
  
A new light was rising slowly into the night sky, preceding the bright glowing rim of a decades closest, full moon, slipping slowly up into the night sky. Delicate, almost serene, the shining orb ascended, filling the shadows below with a soft glow, the night streets growing gentle as they were bathed under its light.  
And as the moon continued to rise, a piano began to play, soft and delicate. A few notes, full of longing, almost whispers of anticipation, that perigee had finally come. A woman's soft, delicate voice began to sing.  
  
_**Tonight you're mine, completely...**_  
  
Trevor was shirtless, his skin tingling with anticipation as he walked alone around the edge of Claire's bedroom, bending forward, lighting candles. A soft, golden light started to fill the room, flickering across his body, caressing the walls with tiny points of flame, glowing like stars. Slowly Trevor lifted the match, blowing it gently out before his lips, waving his hands carefully trough the wisp of smoke, watching it twist past his fingers.  
There was a soft sound behind him. Trevor turned around, almost losing his breath. Claire was standing there in her bathroom doorway, watching him, wearing a thin purple silk robe barely draped over her, tied around the waist, and little else. Trevor's eyes traveled lovingly over her body, the front of the robe open and loose, revealing her skin down to her belly button, revealing the beautiful inner slopes of Claire's breasts, concealed loosely, but unencumbered. Revealing that she was wearing nothing at all underneath. The robe ended generously above mid thigh as she crossed her legs, looking so perfect. She was perfect. He hoped he remembered to breathe.  
Claire leaned against the doorframe beside her, watching him intently as she kept one hand out of view behind her. Biting her lower lip, she brought it around with a smile, revealing a wine bottle. There were no glasses. She waved it slightly at him, remembering what he had told her before.  
Trevor remembered too. And he smiled back.  
  
_**You gave your love, so sweetly...**_  
  
There was a knock on the front door of Trevor and Allison's apartment. Allison walked over, still finishing up her chores, but stopping to swing open the door and find--  
"Champ..." she whispered in surprise.  
Champ was standing there nervously in the hallway. His entire body looked tense, worried, like he was anxious about something. Face drawn tight with concern, he blinked when he saw it was Allison who had answered the door. His eyes shifted, looking beyond her for a moment, but he didn't move forward.  
"Is... Trevor here?"  
Allison's voice suddenly lifted, a new light coming into her eyes when she saw him. She gave him a warm smile. "No. He just left. Is something wrong?"  
Champ almost seemed desperate, his voice trying to stay calm. "I... I just needed to talk to him about something important. I think I need his help..."  
"Join the club," Allison gave him a wondering look. "Well... maybe I can help. Do... do you maybe want to come in?"  
Her voice sounded hopeful, looking at him, waiting.  
Champ looked at her standing there, thinking. His body finally seemed to relax a little. "Umm... Sure. Ok..."  
  
_**Tonight, the light, of love is in your eyes...**_  
  
Jaclyn was sitting at the kitchen table, alone in her apartment, waiting for Champ to come home. The note he had left her was sitting on the table beside her, but she let it be, having read it already dozens of times. She looked over at the clock. It was getting late. Where was he? It wasn't like Champ to be gone this long. She rippled her fingers nervously on top of her knees, releasing pent up energy, wondering what to do. Then she paused, thinking.  
"Maybe he's at Taggerty's..." she whispered to herself.  
Having decided, she instantly stood up, grabbing her keys and quickly leaving the apartment, closing the door behind her.  
  
Dr. Frechette stepped quietly forward. He was moving down the darkened, sterile hallway of the medical trauma ward, powered down in the middle of its night shift. Frechette looked all business, walking straight towards the nurses station, holding a small slip of paper with a name on it. The nurse on duty behind the desk looked up, surprised to see anyone coming by the ward so late at night. She wondered what he wanted, when Dr. Frechette spoke, getting straight to the point.  
"I need to speak to a nurse. A nurse named Dana Wilson who works here..."  
  
The common room of the psych ward was dark, all the patients put away in their rooms for the night. The room was quiet and in shadow, no one there. Except for Faith. She wasn't in her room where everyone else thought she was. She was sitting in the shadows at one of the tables, having crept into the common room once bed check was done. No one was with her as she sat there. No one even knew. But Faith didn't care. She knew she had to be exactly there, tonight of all nights. And she was busy. Faith's hand moved at her side, out of view, her face intent as she worked. She never made a sound, never quickened her breathing or cried out. She only kept going, determined in her task as she sat there alone.  
  
_**But will you still love me, tomorrow...**_  
  
"Wow, Champ. It's beautiful."  
"Yeah," he replied in a subdued voice.  
Champ and Allison were sitting side by side on the couch, looking down at the engagement ring he was holding and turning carefully in his fingers. Their bodies were close together on the small couch as Champ poured his pent up worries out to her. Allison listened intently, glad he was there.  
Champ took a breath. "So I've been walking around. Anywhere but home. I haven't been able to go back to the apartment to show her, to ask her THE question. I've tried, but something keeps holding me back. I just couldn't make myself walk home... I don't know why. It's a big step, I guess. Once I give her this, there's no turning back, you know? I just feel things are speeding forward too fast.... Out of our control, like... we're leaves. Scraps of paper on the wind, and there's no way to stop it..."  
  
Dr. Frechette moved past the darkened, empty beds of ICU towards a nurse working at the far end of a room. When he stopped before her, she looked up, curious.  
"Can I help you?" she asked cautiously.  
"You're Dana Wilson." He stared at her, immediately judging. "Several months back, you cared after a patient named Trevor Hale. A unique patient, that I wanted to ask you about. Do you remember him?"  
Going about her work again, the woman's face lit up, her memories growing fond. "Trevor? Of course.... Trevor is hard to forget. Quite a character. He was always going around trying to set people--"  
Frechette interrupted, not really caring. He proceeded with what Faith had told him. "I needed to ask you about one of his visitors. About something you may have heard her say, or something she may have told you. A woman. Pretty, dark hair, pale skin, name of Claire Allen?"  
The nurse thought for a moment, searching. And then a light went on in her mind. "Wait... Yes. I do remember her now..."  
  
_**Is this a lasting... treasure?**_  
  
A female voice continued to sing as delicate piano music played. Jaclyn walked into Taggerty's, a concerned look on her face. She moved over to the bar, ignoring the energetic crowd. She finally caught Linda's attention, quietly asking the blond bar manager if she had seen Champ. Linda shook her head, she hadn't seen him. Jaclyn exhaled, turning as Linda went back about her work. She looked over at the happy, laughing crowd, feeling alone, wondering where Champ was. Her mind worked, thinking, wondering what to do.  
  
Still sitting next to Champ on the too small couch, Allison took a deep breath, as if reluctant to say her next words. But with one nervous look over at him sitting there beside her, she gathered her courage and finally did.  
"Yeah, I know how you feel. Needing Trevor's advice. Not getting it. I've been asking him what to do for awhile. See..." she looked over at Champ for a long moment. "There's this guy. A friend who I've sort of been crazy about for awhile. His passion, his smile, how he's dedicated to his work... But he's with someone. I've wanted to tell him, but... Trevor told me to just show him. Let him know how I feel..."  
Only half listening, Champ was looking at the engagement ring, chuckling. "Yeah? And how did he say you should do that?"  
"Like... this...." Allison slowly reached over, and grazed her fingers up Champ's arm, the same move she had discussed with Trevor in the bar. Champ paused, looking down at her touching him, stroking his skin, watching with hidden surprise in his eyes. Then he looked over at Allison, seeing the desire in her eyes, desire she was no longer hiding, opening up her feelings to him. Champ blinked, finally understanding who she had meant all along.  
  
_**Or just a moment's... pleasure**_  
  
In the soft light of candles flickering in Claire's bedroom, Claire's fingers grazed tenderly up the side of Trevor's arm the way Allison's just had. But instead, she was watching in awe, amazed by what she saw there.  
"Trevor, I... Wow. I didn't even notice before. When did--"  
"Earlier this afternoon. It's still a little sore..."  
They were kneeling on the bed before each other, arms reaching out, naked as Claire caressed the new addition to the skin of Trevor's arm. It was a tattoo. A tattoo of a heart. A heart with Claire's name in the middle of it, plain to see. Undeniable.  
She blinked, totally caught unaware, in amazement at what he had done, knowing what he was risking. "Trevor, if anyone sees this, they'll know that--"  
"They won't see it, Claire." He looked across to her, touching the side of her face, love in his gaze. "And if they do, I don't care."  
She didn't know what to say. Leaning forward, Claire's lips touched his, kissing him softly, both kneeling naked before each other. Candles flickered in the distance behind as their arms reached out and embraced each other, the heart tattoo with Claire's name still visible on Trevor's skin.  
  
Faith was still in the darkened common room, her hand working on something out of view when she looked up, a sudden glint in her eye. There was some unknown knowledge in her, as if she sensed something. Things were happening outside the confines of the shadowy room she was in. After a moment, she looked down again at her work, finished with it at last. Pulling the bloodied tip of a white plastic fork down from the side of her arm, she placed it reverently on the table, happy with what she had just done.  
On the pale skin of her arm, in the same position where Trevor's was, drawn in thin red lines that were cut deep and starting to bleed in spots, she had carved a tattoo. Scraped it hard into her skin, knowing it would scar into that shape. Smiling, she looked at it, feeling complete now. Like she finally looked how she should look. It was a tattoo of a heart. An identical heart to Trevor's, like she had been drawing there all along, with a name in the middle. Plain to see. Undeniable. But as always, the name on her's read 'Cupid'.  
  
_** Can I believe, the magic of your sigh...**_  
  
Jaclyn opened the front door of her dark apartment and switched on the light, hurrying in, looking around. But the apartment was still empty. Champ wasn't there. Frustrated, she closed the front door, as her mind filled with worried thoughts. Champ had said he wanted to talk to her about something important. That had gotten her imagination going, wondering what it was about.   
Anxious, she sat down on the chair by the kitchen table, feeling small as she looked across her apartment. Not knowing what to do, she looked over and saw the note on the kitchen table again. The note Champ had left. She picked it up, reading it.  
"Trevor says hi..." she whispered. Pausing, Jaclyn thought about it, before coming to a conclusion.   
She got up and left the apartment again.  
  
Champ and Allison were facing each other, their eyes locked on each other, skin becoming warm. Her hand was still resting on his arm as she listened to him. But both felt it, both sensed it. There was a spark between them. A budding something, as if out of the blue. They felt it even as Champ continued to speak, talking absently about Jaclyn.  
"So... after I saw the magazine, I freaked. Bought this ring, thinking it was what Jaclyn wants. What _should_ happen. But... I don't know if it's what I want. I just don't want to hurt her, you know?"  
Allison's lips parted, her voice soft. Did her face almost seem closer? "Hurt her how?" she asked.  
Transfixed, Champ didn't pull away, watching her. Allison really was beautiful. Why was he feeling this way? "Well.... I always... I always seem to bolt from commitment, you know? Better now than at the altar. But there are... other reasons."  
She was definitely closer, shifting nearer. Her eyes yearned, looking warmly into his. "Yeah... Like what."  
Champ swallowed, enjoying Allison so near, wanting her nearer. "Well... Never getting to touch another woman..."  
Raising her hand, Allison touched him, grazing the side of his attentive face.  
He was almost in a daze from the effect she was having.  
"Never... never getting to... kiss another--..." Her fingers were already grazing across his lips, admiring them even before he said it. With a cough, Champ continued. "Umm, never getting to... you know..."  
His voice trailed off, looking at her, afraid he had said too much. Allison smiled, both sharing the same thought, and suddenly their faces were pulled together, as if drawn closer by gravity, out of their control. Surrendering, they kissed deeply. Before they knew it, they were blindly reaching to remove clothes.  
  
_** Will you still love me... tomorrow.**_  
  
Claire took a breath after she pulled her lips from Trevor's, leaning her forehead against his, panting deeply. They were still kneeling before each other as they caressed the other's face. "Trevor... I... I need to know something..."  
She held his face, his warm, beautiful face, making him look at her. He looked so beautiful in the candlelight to her. She couldn't believe the joy she felt even though they had barely started touching. Or the doubts.  
"What?" he asked gently, waiting.  
She took a breath, looking nervous as she held his face, not letting go. "Trevor, you said you would never... You know the gods won't let you love a mortal."  
Trevor smiled."I don't let some god tell me who to love..."  
She shook her head. "What about giving up Cupid. How do you know that's not exactly what you're doing right now?"  
"I don't care..." His voice was absolutely certain, unwavering.  
Claire lowered her eyes. "Is that why you're doing this? You feel abandoned down here by the gods. Now you're rebelling against their rules. How do I know this isn't just some huge 'screw you' towards Mt. Olympus? What I'm really asking is... how do I know... you really love me?"  
Trevor tried not to laugh, seeing the serious expression in her eyes. "Claire... if you ever truly knew how much I really _DO_ love you..." He paused, watching her tenderly. "You'd never feel compelled to ask that question ever again..."  
Claire gazed at him, loving him so much in that moment as she held Trevor's smile between her hands in the dancing light of the candles. And with that, she kissed him, speaking no more words between them, needing no more words as she leaned back, pulling Trevor on to her, offering themselves finally... to each other.  
  
_**Tonight with words unspoken...**_  
  
The streets of Chicago were empty, quiet, deeper shadows offset by the glow of the full moon. Slowly, a breeze began to rise, whispering softly down empty asphalt lanes. Then the wind grew stronger, blowing more forcefully as it flowed and rushed forward, kicking up loose debris, making trees sway until their branches were dancing in it's wake. It pushed forward in the night, papers dancing across the dark asphalt, sheets of white, twisting, turning...  
  
Trevor and Claire turned, twisting under white sheets, holding each other, bodies together as they began...  
  
Sitting in the darkened common room of the psych ward, Faith suddenly glanced up at nothing, sensing that futures... were finally changing forever. Slowly a smile spread across her face as she waited there, the sterile common room in shadows around her.  
  
Frechette didn't even notice the tree dancing wildly in the window behind the ICU nurse he was listening to. Instead he was amazed at what he was hearing. Amazed by what the woman was relating to him without being aware of the implications. The nurse continued to make beds as she spoke.  
"I had always known they must have been involved somehow, yeah. While he lay recovering from that gunshot to the chest, she hardly left his side, hour after hour . It was dedication, very sweet to see. She obviously felt a great deal for him." The nurse paused, remembering. "But I was never absolutely sure until I heard her say it. It was weird... Trevor was asleep, but fine. She on the other hand looked worried... So I talked to her. Tried to comfort her, you know? Told her he would be fine. But she said she had a bigger problem. That she thought she was in love with him. Strange thing to say... It stuck in my memory..."  
Stunned, Frechette blinked, looking away. His mind whirled. Someone real. Someone he could confirm. Finally a witness, who had actually heard the words. "You're positive? She said she was in love with him?"  
The nurse nodded. "Yeah. Absolutely sure."  
Behind her, the trees continued to dance in the silent wind outside, as it blew towards--  
  
_** You say that I'm... the only one.**_  
  
--Jaclyn, walking alone down the street. The sudden breeze buffeted her, sending pieces of paper flying past her as she walked down the sidewalk. The trees were swaying in the breeze above her when she looked up, seeing the moon shining brightly down out of the night sky, making her stop there. It reminded her of her walk with Champ. And despite the sudden chill, she smiled, glad she was with him. Glad she had him in her life, knowing she loved him. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she hurried her steps, eager to find him again, hurrying forward.  
  
Trevor and Claire were lost in each other, rolling in the other's embrace, their naked bodies pressed against each other as they caressed and made love, kissing tenderly. As their bodies moved, the white sheets curved around their forms, holding them, caressing them, the hint of their own curves underneath. The candles flickered like a field of stars as the sheets moved, twisting around their intertwined bodies, growing faster, the movements passionate, chaotic, unstoppable.  
White sheets of paper twisted and turned through mid air, carried higher on a rising, buffeting wind, caught inside a tempest as if an angry thought was flowing visibly down the street. The swarm of debris was chaotic too, lost in the mere momentum of rushing onward, unstoppable.  
The secluded out of the way corner of the hospital common room was still dark and empty, until Faith stepped into view. Her bare feet were silent on the tile floor, walking slowly forward. She walked closer towards where her eyes had locked their gaze. It was a strong, heavily bolted exterior double door out of the psych ward, locked up tight in the shadows. Full of certainty, Faith merely stood before it, waiting...  
  
_**But will my heart, be broken, baby...**_  
  
The couch in Trevor and Allison's apartment was empty.  
No one was in the living room at all. As the piano played softly and the woman's voice continued the song, there were no other sounds. Except for one. The faint sound of pleasurable laughter, almost indiscernible, falling softly down the metal circular staircase which led to the rooms above.  
Suddenly there was a soft knock on the front door.  
"Leave it..." Champ's voice whispered playfully, trying to slow his heated breath.  
"No, I'd better see who it is. Let me put something on..."  
There was another polite knock on the door, still waiting patiently.  
Her hair a mess, Allison quickly descended the circular staircase with a big smile on her face. She was only wearing a loose t-shirt that barely reached her hips, revealing long, beautiful legs, tanned and shapely.  
In her bare feet, she ran over to the front door as quickly as she could, obviously eager to get back upstairs. Without a second thought, she opened it with a pleased laugh, and suddenly her smile dropped into absolute shock, her eyes widening.  
"Jaclyn..." she whispered.  
Jaclyn blinked at the barely dressed woman, surprised Allison was standing there so exposed. She immediately blushed, feeling nervous, like she was interrupting something. Looking past her, Jaclyn wondered why she was even asking now, since it was obvious he hadn't.  
"Allison... has Champ been by here?"  
"Umm... No.... No, uh.... Champ's not here." Allison couldn't hide the stunned fear in her eyes. Her entire body went still, trying not to move.  
Jaclyn still felt uncomfortable standing next to a virtually naked woman. But then she finally looked more carefully at what Allison _was_ wearing... and Jaclyn's face slowly began to change. Shock, then dismay slowly filled Jaclyn's expression, full of disbelief as she looked back up into Allison's eyes.  
Allison realized she hadn't even noticed just exactly what she had thrown on. A sudden chill filled her. And as the two women looked into each other's eyes, in that one long moment, they both knew.  
Jaclyn's voice sounded broken, starting to quiver as she swallowed and spoke more softly. "That's... that's Champ's shirt. The one he was wearing this afternoon..."  
Allison blinked rapidly. "Wait... Jaclyn, I can explain--"  
There was a flash of fury, of anger behind Jaclyn's eyes. They instantly began to glitter. Her face seemed merely held on to her body by sheer inertia, instead of falling apart.  
And Allison saw. Saw the vivid play of hurt, deep in Jaclyn's face, something Allison would remember to the end of her days. Without saying another word, Jaclyn turned silently... and walked off.  
"Jaclyn, wait..." Allison stepped helplessly out into the hallway, hand on the doorframe, calling out to her. But Jaclyn wasn't turning, her steps increasing in speed, almost to a sprint.  
Suddenly Champ squeezed his way past Allison and out into the hallway, having overheard everything. He looked frantic, wearing only the pants he had managed to put on in a mad scramble, running, chasing after Jaclyn down the hallway. Calling out, desperation and fear filling him, feeling his world come apart.  
"Jaclyn! Jaclyn, wait!"  
  
_**When the night, meets the morning... sun.**_  
  
Claire looked up with glazed eyes at Trevor's intense face moaning above hers, caressing it as their bodies moved together under the sheets. She moved too, moaning with him, their rhythms matching. As the sensations continued to burst through her, her skin started to glisten, rocking faster and faster against him, thrusting underneath him. She moved in union with the man she loved, holding him, making love to him, lost in the growing joy, blissful and pure, perfect inside her as Trevor moved the same way she was moving, both of them gazing lovingly into the other's eyes.  
It was a thick swarm of paper debris now that was caught and pushed before the rushing wind, thrown helplessly along a grimy, worn down back street, like an angry breath of god. It flew down the alley asphalt, filling the air like a blizzard, the wind relentlessly sweeping the pale debris forward. Then the papers slammed into two bolted, impenetrable locked doors, plastered against them in protest as more papers followed in the fierce wind storm, buffeting the doors.  
On the other side of the doors, sealed inside, everything was quiet. Faith simply stood there, listening to the wind hit the exterior, patient...  
  
Claire moaned, rocking as her body was now overwhelmed and on fire. The sheets twisted around her as she rolled Trevor underneath her body, rising above him, looking down at him as she straddled him. The sheets twisted, slid across her lower back, the gentle candlelight flickering across the delicate skin of Claire's spine as Trevor lovingly caressed it. Her body rose and fell, her spine arching, making love to him, both of them moving ever faster now, the sheets dancing around them as something frantic took over, finally near the moment.  
A single sheet of paper, plastered flat against the double doors in the hard flow of air, had one edge dancing free, flapping wildly, frantic and angry in the gale.  
  
_**I'd like to know that your love...**_  
  
Tears were falling freely down Jaclyn's face, her short red hair waving tumultuously in the wind as she walked out on the street, the strong breeze cold on her wet cheeks. Her steps were fast and desperate, almost running, running from what had happened. Running from what couldn't be run from. Her body, her senses seemed numb and drawn in, cut off from the world and everything buffeting her as she darted down the street alone.  
A voice yelled out for her from behind, fighting the loud winds. "Jaclyn! Jaclyn wait!"  
She didn't turn around as Champ ran frantically up behind her, grabbing her shoulder. She angrily batted it off, whirling to face him. Suddenly she released a torrent of pounding fists into his shirtless chest, making him step back.  
"Champ how could you! How-could-you-how-could-you-how-could-you!"  
She was in tears, barely able to see, barely aware of anything except hitting him, striking blindly out. Before her Champ was frantic too, trying to calm her.  
"Jaclyn, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" His hands fumbled around her blows, afraid to stop her.  
With a growl at his apologies, small Jaclyn shoved him away hard, nearly knocking him over before she turned and started walking again, sobbing openly. Champ chased after her, trying to get her to hear.  
"Jaclyn, please! Let me explain! We can get through this! We can--"   
Hair flying in the wind, she turned and fixed him with a hate filled glare as tears flowed freely down her face, glittering on her skin. "Why. Tell me why."  
Her words were soft, but Champ blinked. In that one moment he saw all the pain in her. He saw how much he had just hurt her. And suddenly, all his words seemed so pointless, shallow as they were, catching in his throat.  
"I... I saw the bridal magazine. I freaked. I'm not ready for that..."  
Jaclyn almost laughed bitterly, still in shock as what felt like shards twisted inside her. She bit her lip to stop it from quivering, but it didn't work. She glared at him as tears seemed to fall from her eyes without end, speaking in a soft, broken voice.  
"The bridal magazine..." she repeated.  
Champ felt how empty that sounded. "Yeah..."  
Jaclyn closed her eyes, but even then the tears didn't stop. She couldn't bear to look at him anyway. "That magazine wasn't for me, Champ! It was for a friend of mine who's getting married... I only hid it because I knew you'd freak out about it."  
"But... Then this is all just a misunderstanding--"  
"No..." Her eyes were sparkling pools when she opened them, glaring with pain at him. "It proves you don't really love me. And that we don't belong together..."  
"Jaclyn, I'm sorry. Whatever it takes, I'll--"  
"Goodbye, Champ." There was no doubt in Jaclyn's voice. No hesitation as she turned and walked away, the tears still falling on her face, pushed this way and that on her skin from the strong wind. The loud night was empty around them under the full moon.  
Champ blinked. "Jaclyn?"  
She didn't turn around. Walking away, leaving him there alone on an empty city street, she never looked back.  
Champ didn't move. He finally realized with absolute certainty, that it was over.  
  
_**Is a love I can be sure of.**_  
  
Frechette was back in his office again, his glasses reflecting the warm glow of his desktop lamp as he rested his chin on his curled fist. He was deep in thought, going over what the nurse had related to him. Faith was right. Everything she had said had been absolutely right. All of it. That knowledge filled him, hit him like a wall of stone, wondering how it could possibly be true. He would have to talk to her again tomorrow.  
But for now he was looking at the long detailed notes he had taken of Faith's 'foretelling' during his sessions with her, notes on what she predicted would still yet happen. Frechette's eyes paused, looking over the words. Quietly he thought about it, then he shook his head, not believing he was doing this. Reaching over he picked up the phone, dialing up directory assistance.  
"Yes... I need a number. A number in Las Vegas..."  
  
The beautiful light of the candles was flickering across Claire's panting lips as intense pleasure flowed across her face, her body bobbing on Trevor beneath her. Moaning she looked down. Trevor watched her, transfixed by her expression as he lost himself in a wave of ecstasy too, loving her, wanting her, filling her as they both danced on the edge of final bliss...  
Claire's moans became even louder, starting to cry out, her body growing increasingly frantic, the sheets sliding over the small of her back....  
More papers angrily buffeted the stubborn double doors, and the wind seemed to increase, as if it's patience had finally run out.  
She threw her head back, crying out as Trevor did the same below her. The air seemed to tense. They frantically climbed even higher together, joyful, blissful, unified as one until both their voices--  
The double doors finally burst open under the assault, and what had been the darkened common room of the psyche ward instantly became a storm. The sudden angry gale buffeted Faith as she stood there patiently, waiting there before the doors even broke open, smiling slightly as her hospital clothes flapped against her body. Faith didn't move, enjoying the exhilarating new touch of the free wind from outside. Papers streamed past her into the room like a blizzard, circling and dancing behind her.  
The doors bounced back against either wall in the strong gale, staying open before her. And as Faith stood there, bracketed by the doors, her blond hair streaming out behind, looking into that open space... she was finally happy. It was finally her time.  
  
_**So tell me now, and I won't ask again...**_  
  
Champ was fully dressed again, his eyes watery as he looked out at the silvery reflection of the full moon glistening on the wind blown water in downtown Chicago. He was alone in the wind and darkness, standing on the center expanse of one of many street bridges that crossed the river, looking down over the stone railing as he leaned on it. Punched by the cold wind blowing hard over him, flapping his coat, the tears rolled silently down his face.  
Slowly, Champ pulled the glittering engagement ring out of his pocket. He turned it in his fingers as he looked down on it, realizing tragically.... he had never even shown it to Jaclyn. She didn't even have a clue to what he had almost asked her, what he probably would still ask her if he hadn't just--  
Champ dropped his head.  
  
_**Will you still love me, tomorrow...**_  
  
Jaclyn was alone in her apartment, curled up in the shadows, her knees drawn up to her as she sat in a corner on the floor, weeping. Her body heaved and shook, crying loudly, alone and small, but no one was there to hear. She curled into herself, letting the pain flow out of her like a storm, lost in a gale of despair, lost in her heart... her wet face collapsed onto her knees, her body shaking... crying beyond all hope of being able to stop.  
Champ was still looking out from the bridge, crying too, tears falling off his chin. He hated himself, hated what he had done to Jaclyn. Looking down, he watched the ring glitter in his grasp. Now.... she would never even see it. She would never know. He could still--... No. There are some things you can't fix.  
As the tears rolled down his cheek, Champ pulled his arm back and threw the ring with all his might, letting it go.  
It disappeared instantly into the dark. But after a few moments, he saw the small, insignificant splash as it sank into the unseen depths below the bridge. And then, the ripples faded, as if the ring had never existed.  
  
_**Tell me now, and I won't ask again...**_  
  
Dr. Frechette was still waiting in his office with the phone to his ear. Finally he got a response as someone on the other end of the phone finally answered. Frechette leaned forward in the dark of his office, eagerness glistening in his eyes.  
"Yes. Hello... Dr. Ian Frechette. Sorry to disrupt your usual schedule of proceedings. I assume you're the manager of the establishment? And you... you live and remain in Vegas itself? Performing all the ceremonies personally? Yes... yes. Excellent. You are exactly who I needed to talk to. I need you to do something for me. I'll make it worthwhile monetarily. Simply put... I want you to contact me the second two particular individuals show up there. Great..."  
Frechette smiled, pleased. This seemed like it was going to work after all. He would have to thank Faith personally. He looked for a pen, starting to write. "Thank you. I have the fax number. I'll reimburse you handsomely for this. This will be a great help to me, in case the 'tip' I received comes true. No, I don't know when. I wasn't told that. That's why you need to keep a keen eye out for them. I'll fax you those photos. And if this couple does show up at some point, they'll be going under the names of--"  
  
_**Will you still love me...**_  
  
Both of their still naked bodies were glistening under the soft romantic light of the candles. Chests heaving, they finally let their breathing slow, holding each other tenderly under the sheets. Resting warmly against his chest, Claire looked into mid air in total bliss, amazed beyond what she could believe she could feel, holding Trevor tenderly.  
Trevor's breath was slowing too, his heart pounding in his chest, pounding against her cheek, happier than he had ever known was possible, simply holding Claire close. The tumult of residual sensations passing in their bodies faded to an electric contentment as they held each other, after glow tingling in their bodies as their sensations began to level.  
Claire shifted her body and lifted the side of her face where it had rested on Trevor's chest, looking at him with love in her eyes, her lips coming forward, kissing him tenderly.  
Trevor kissed her in return, loving her with everything he was or would ever be in that moment, regretting nothing as he took Claire's perfect, naked body closer in his arms, the tatto on his skin. . They kissed gently, lovers swimming in contentment. He knew this was what he wanted. What he had always wanted. To give himself to the woman he loved. No matter the cost. He wouldn't change this even if he could.  
Outside, the buffeting winds had slowed even more, taking their time as they came to a rest. Papers blown up in the gale began to slowly twist and settle in the night, falling to the streets and sidewalks from on high. The trees finally went still under the bright light of a full moon.  
  
_**Will you still love me...**_  
  
The lights were bright over the chaotic mess that was the psych ward's common room. Several orderlies were walking through a carpet of discarded paper and blown in litter from outside that covered the floor of the once ordered room. They looked around in the harsh lighting at all tables and chairs overturned in the wind, now only a soft trickle as it circled the room. A few papers still floated back and forth behind one particular orderly. He looked up when he heard a soft banging, then he turned a corner.  
The twin metal doors were still broken open, banging loosely against the wall as they were pushed by a soft, residual breeze. The alley in the night was dark beyond.  
The orderly paused, wondering how this had happened. They had already looked everywhere to no avail. But as he examined those busted doors, swinging open, it finally hit him. They had been opened by the windstorm earlier. Opened for some time.  
And with a sigh, the orderly finally accepted it.  
Faith was gone.  
  
_**Will you still love me... tomorrow...**_  
  
Slowly... the full moon sank, its silver disk slipping quietly beneath the shadow of the horizon, disappearing into black.  
The woman's voice finally stopped singing the sad music, as the lone piano cadenced downward, leaving a few gentle notes to linger softly, before they and the last thin edge of the dropping moon... faded into silence.  
  


THE END.  
  
To be concluded in Part 8 of the series,  
  
FALLING HOME  



End file.
